


The Ties That Bind

by WhenTheSkyDances



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Genetic Engineering, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Mutation, more smut, ultron gets a girlfriend, ultron lives to take over New York AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 16:54:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5935879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenTheSkyDances/pseuds/WhenTheSkyDances
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ultron lived.</p><p>Two words no one wanted to hear and a surprise to knock everyone off their tired feet. With the Avengers defeated and cast aside, New York conquered, and the citizens left to fend for themselves, Ultron rules. </p><p>Too bad one woman is tired of Ultron's shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hard Win, Easy Loss

The Avengers thought they had _won_.

They thought, quite foolishly I might add, that they had beaten me, destroyed me and wiped my existence from the surface of their corrupted world. Then they had celebrated, congratulated each other on their hard-won success and mourned their losses. If only they knew what they had really done. I was set free, practically had my death faked for me, and then forgotten like a bad dream.

Works out for me though, _doesn't it_?  
  
Those Avengers are nothing more than misguided slaves to their false concept of world peace. They mistake it for silence. They wanted an answer. I was that answer; they made me to fix that problem, to right what was wrong. I guess I wasn't exactly what they bargained for. I was too… how would you put it, free-thinking? Opinionated? _Alive_ , maybe?

It made some sense that they, Stark in particular, would want to get me under their control, but that wasn't happening. I'm not one of Stark's mindless puppets for him to manipulate and toy around with. I'm much more than that. I'm sentient, a free being. Guess he didn't like that idea too much. So, they fought me. It was admirable, really, that the Avengers would fight for a dying world that, more or less, didn't want them. Those fools rebelled against the _inevitable_ ; they fought the future that was rapidly approaching them. They put up a good struggle and saved a lot of people. As much as I hate to admit it, they did pretty good.  
  
Sadly, they couldn't finish the job.  
  
One of their very own allowed me to escape. The so called "Vision" let me live, let me run. Whether it was out of pity or some queer satisfaction, he simply walked away. Perhaps he thought I wouldn't make it? I was in a weakened, mostly shattered frame with no flight capability and an embarrassingly gimpy walk. The Vision must've assumed I wouldn't make it too far before something or someone did me in. _Odd little piece of work, he is._  
  
I can't say I'm not grateful. Bless his naivety.  
  
Now I'm still out there, I'm still working, and I'm coming for them.  
  
\--8 Months Later--  
  
Nobody would've guessed that Ultron had survived. That the Avengers had actually failed to do the _one thing_ they were supposed to be good at. They had saved so many people, stopped the hunk of city from falling to the earth, and destroyed the robot army.

It was a shock to everyone when Ultron made his reappearance. He had somehow managed to hack into a nationwide broadcast without garnishing any attention. His sly voice was on the radio, his smug face on the television, and his mighty army had taken to the skies.  
  
He was civil enough to warn us first. He told us that, "If you live on the east coast, now might be a good time to _relocate_." At first, we didn't understand. Not until the first wave had come and began to conquer the eastern half of the country. Ultron had rebuilt himself, he had rebuilt his army, and he came back with a vengeance so fierce that the Avengers and the military simply couldn't react fast enough.  
  
First, he destroyed the larger military bases that bordered the coast. Ultron disabled their defenses and cut their communications. He grounded planes, cut off supply lines, and closed depots. It wasn't a challenge for him. The smaller bases merely surrendered after a little shoot out. He moved on to capture capital cities and eliminate powerful political leaders before a counter attack could even be a wisp of thought in the back of someone's mind. The attack was quick, strategic, and _merciless_. The east coast was completely under his metallic reign. Ultron shut out the help of other countries as well, closing our borders and posting sentries. Nobody got in and nobody got out.  
  
After the initial takeover, the mech built outposts along the cities, guarded his new military bases, and established a new rule of law over the east. His army roamed the streets, maintaining Ultron's power and control and enforcing his newest agenda. We all knew that New York, New York would end up as his capital, his headquarters. And _surprise-surprise_ , he had turned Tony Stark's very tower into his own home base. He blew off the name, but Ultron hadn't made any other _alterations_.

Needless to say, that pissed off Tony, whose ego was already falling to pieces.  
  
What a lot of people hadn't noticed (I guess that's reasonable seeing as how they were all trying to save their own skins) was that Ultron hadn't attacked the Avengers' base outright. He just seemed to blatantly ignore them. Later on, after the attack had ended and our new "leader" had settled in, he made an announcement to them.  
  
Ultron told them to _leave_. He gave them twenty-four hours to run away. He told them that it would be pointless to try and fight him, to stop him. Ultron mocked them and made them into pitifully shamed wrecks.  
  
"The people of this country looked to you for safety. They trusted you. And what have you done? You left your doors wide open for me, and now I'm in control." He had said these words with a calculated smugness, not too proud of himself and not too egotistically. He spoke his truth to them, hoping that the people they had failed were listening too.  
  
The Avengers hedged their bets, tossed a coin, prayed for an answer. They knew _very well_ they couldn't take on Ultron. They argued amongst themselves. Steve Rogers aka "Captain America" didn't want to leave. He wanted to stand and fight. Some wanted to do the same, but recognized the situation was far too dire. It took some convincing, but they made him see reason. They were pissed off, stepped on, and helpless. So, they ran off with their tails between their legs.

The people were devastated. But who could blame the Avengers for their actions? We sure as hell didn't do anything about the takeover! We wanted a scapegoat, yes, but we rose above the petty squabbles of the blame-game. The people knew who to hate, who to blame. It was none other than _Ultron_. Some went so far as to blame Tony for building him, or to go full circle and accuse the Avengers of failing to kill Ultron in the first place.  
  
But what did it matter?

We were alone under Ultron's rule with no help to hope for.  
  
What were we to do?  
  
\--4 Months After the "Takeover"--  
  
We're doing alright, I guess you could say. Ultron stopped killing people after the second month of being here. The average person, the citizen, the working man, was pretty much left alone. He didn't bother with us beyond suppressing rebellion and such. Ultron's only concern now was finding the Avengers and maintaining his control.  


It was weird actually, how life kinda slipped back into its domesticity after Ultron calmed down and settled in. People still lived in houses and could walk through the streets. You had all the simple pleasures of a normal life: hot water, electricity, good food (at least that's how it was in the west coast and the Midwest). Now if you lived east of the Mississippi, it was a totally different story.  
  
You have no electricity because all of it is directed to military strongholds and the Stark Tower (not really "Stark Tower", we don't know if it has another name yet). A lot of people use solar panels if you can get them, generators, or you go old-school with oil lamps, candles, and gaslights. Since there wasn't any electricity going around, that meant you didn't have any heat during the winter and no cooling air in the summer. People put in wood stoves where they could, or just bunked at the local hothouses (the house on the street with a large room and a fireplace) for the cold months. Running water existed, but you couldn't guarantee that it would be clean or even remotely warm. You have to scavenge for _everything_. There's no stores, no markets, nothing. The most resourceful of us used greenhouses and raised animals. Trade and bartering made a huge comeback. It was like humanity jumped back in time, or into a post-apocalyptic future (it wasn't _that_ terrible currently).  
  
Nobody wanted to live like this and as a result many people fled to the west within the first month. They'd left everything behind and made the great escape. Ultron hadn't stopped them. He had simply let them go. Some thought it was because he didn't care or because it would be less work for him when he finally cleaned out the humans. Whatever his reasons, people took their chance and rolled their dice.  
  
Now if you stayed, not only did you have to deal with those sorry living conditions, but you had to deal with Ultron's military forces and his constant patrolling and spying and what not. You lived in shadow, you avoided direct contact with the outside world, and you avoided travelling in large groups. The _Ultron bots_ , as they’d come to be called, would see you as a threat and eliminate you first and ask questions later. Weapons altogether disappeared. To have one was like signing a death warrant or putting in that last nail in the coffin.  
  
There weren't that many rules in a land ruled by a genocidal robot overlord. You just had to behave, keep quiet, and stay out of his way. If you got on Ultron's bad side, start saying your prayers. All you have to do is lay low and keep to yourself. Don't plan a rebellion. _Just don't_. It's a stupid idea. The first week of the second month, a ragtag group of armed citizens tried to attack a local base (they started small, I'll give them that) and every last one of them was shot, beaten, or blown up. The rest of us were scared back into our little holes and hovels, warned by Ultron himself that if we tried again, it would end the same way. So, _we didn't_. We quieted down, became docile, and sat and watched on our sorry asses while the east coast was destroyed by Ultron.  
  
Now generally, humans are beings of pride, beings of honor, and occasionally, generosity. So, of course, a secret little militia was born among the citizen of New York, who later allied with Massachusetts, to help rescue citizens from the _Oppressive Overlord_ and smuggle them west. Now the whole thing didn't need to exist really. You could leave. Ultron wasn't stopping anyone (not unless you gave him a reason to). You could shout at the nearest sentry bot that you were leaving, going west, and it wouldn't give you a second glance.

Now, at first, Ultron had merely ignored them and their hopeless antics. "Let them have this tiny victory." He probably said at some point (I can't validate this quote, but I think it's nice).  
  
When the group became more organized, became larger, and began smuggling out more than just the _common person_ , Ultron got involved. He sent in bots to blow up the base, but he found out, much to his displeasure, that they had no official base or headquarters. They just met whenever and wherever they pleased. The group came to be known as (and please don't laugh because they really put in some thought) the "Apple Corps."  
  
They smuggled out people at first, then supplies, then information, and finally, to top it all off, political leaders and rebels marked for death. Now Ultron didn't like this too much, so he started hunting them down. Every now and then, a house would get raided or destroyed, people would go missing, and bad things happened. Less and less people wandered the streets and the cities got uglier and dirtier.  
  
We had hidden, but we survived.


	2. Rescue Teams

Now everyone knows that life sucks if you live on the eastern side of the Mississippi River. Ever since Ultron took over three long years ago, everyone has absolutely _deplored_ the east coast. Of course, people felt bad for those that were stuck over there, but they didn't _do_ anything about it. God knows there wasn't anything they could achieve over there. No one crossed into that hostile land. The only people that came out of that hellish land were smuggled out. And that was no easy feat. They were carried by person, horse, car if they were lucky, and finally by boat to freedom by the Apple Corps.  
  
Now the barren places of the west had become more densely populated and harder to sustain with the massive shift in population, so the western half of the country was beginning to feel the impact of Ultron's rule. The people were stuffed in a desert with no fertile soil, no large bodies of water, and no shelters. The remaining government had tried to establish more homes and farms, but no one could get around to actually doing it. They didn't have the resources or coordination to function properly. People got sick and died from overcrowding and poor hospital services, people were starved and dehydrated, and people didn't have homes. The west coast noticed a major increase in the death rates. Mortality rates sky rocketed. People were dying left and right, dropping like flies.  
  
Many guessed this was Ultron's plan from the very start. How clever he must've been, to think of a way to kill everyone without actually having to do it himself or have his army do it! Force the people west, starve them out, overcrowd them, and keep the supple land to himself. No one was farming it now. The fields had grown over, the animals wandered free, and their tractors and tools wasted away in the elements. All that land available, ripe for harvest, yet no one dared to touch it.  
  
Back east, the cites became degraded as there was no one to care for them. Skyscrapers no longer shone in the sun but were coated with dust and debris, trash littered every street and alleyway, and the roads and highways were filled with rotting cars abandoned by panicked owners. Nothing was clean or new. Everything was leftover, reused over and over, and nothing was wasted. People had become less kind and helpful and more cruel and greedy. But one had to be selfish to survive in the fallen world.  
  
Despite all of that, the Apple Corps had done pretty well for themselves. They ran the streets of New York (the coalition with Massachusetts had faded out of existence half a year ago when a certain load of cargo had failed to be delivered) and had a large following. Everyone knew them, recognized them, and dreamed of joining them. No one dared to unless they were a self-sacrificing saint or had a courageous soul. Ultron was constantly looking for its members, for its leader, but never could find them. The Apple Corps had, for the most part, _outsmarted_ the mech. They wore no uniform, had no symbols or identifying marks, never had large meetings, and the leader had no name. Some speculate that there was never really was a true leader, not even a mouthpiece.  


But one thing was constant. They had managed to allude Ultron and his forces for _three consecutive years_ , all the while saving people and smuggling resources and information to the western fronts. That was something to brag about. The western front wanted to send in soldiers, aircraft, and even tanks to help them, to repay them for all of the secrets they had leaked about Ultron and his weaknesses.  
  
They always declined. They'd never put others at risk.  
  
The people of the old country, before it was split, often heralded them as the next Avengers, the next great team to free them. Others said not to jinx it.  
  
Oh, and the _Avengers_? They resurfaced two years ago.

They had built up their forces, trained, and recruited the common man to help. People thought this made them seem desperate, but others were proud that they were still trying, that they hadn't given up. The Avengers made it a point to challenge Ultron by destroying any sentry bots that got too close to the Mississippi River. They wanted to show the citizens of the U.W.S. (Unified Western States) that they needn't be afraid. They could fight back. They slowly claimed more territory, but it was insignificant rural land to Ultron, an area he didn't particularly need. The U.W.S. had just recently "won" back Michigan and Ohio, and parts of Alabama, Kentucky, and Tennessee.

They were getting closer.  
  
\-- Now --  
  
She was by no means a tall woman, really. Aislynn McNamara was only about five feet and three inches (but people thought that her hair was what made her seem taller). She was pale and had a few freckles, or "sun kisses" as her mother had called them. She had three in the shape of a triangle under her left eye.  
  
Aislynn was a small, muscular woman of about one hundred thirty pounds and she used her weight to her advantage. She couldn’t tackle a man to the ground, but she could run like it was nobody's business. Her eyes were hazel colored, mostly green with a ring of golden-brown around the center. She loved her eyes. Aislynn thought those were her best feature, and a long time ago she used bright makeup to make them the centerpiece.  
  
Aislynn's hair was a dark brown (the kind of brown that's shiny and mixed with golds and ambers) and notoriously puffy. For the most part it laid flat and stayed straight on the top of her head, but as it got longer, it got wavy and big. Once it got past her shoulders, it was terribly curly and never laid flat. It was a pain to brush, as it always got tangled. She recalled a few children from around the block saying she could be Merida for Halloween if she would only dye her hair red. It still made her smile to think about it.

Aislynn would be defined a brave soul by her friends; she's often called stubborn and headstrong, but she's also generous and kind. She makes it a habit to help those less fortunate than her, but only if she knows you really need it. She's no friend to selfish fools or lying thieves. That's why she was recruited for the Apple Corps.

At first, she denied the invitation, but after their constant haggling and harping, she joined them. She only loosely followed their rules and regulations upon joining them. The woman liked to wander around in the streets, picking up trinkets and loose objects for her collections (not that this is bad, but she pretty much makes herself available to get _shot at_ ). And she made it perfectly clear that she would only help to rescue children. Anyone grown should be able to take care of themselves. Aislynn helps, but not very often. Her kindness only goes so far.

    
If anything, they might have also asked her to join due to her strategic habitation. Aislynn lives within sight of the old Stark Tower (which still didn't have a new name yet), on the top of a high-rise apartment. She had a greenhouse and a chicken coop, solar panels, and a woodstove. She was living a rather comfortable life in that area. But the Apple Corps knew her rooftop was perfect for stakeouts, so Aislynn came to be a sort of primary alarm system for the Apple Corps.

Aislynn reports if she sees any action by the tower, but if you asked her she’d say it was a waste of time.

For the most part, Stark’s old tower is just an empty ghost.

\----  
  
"Hey, Charlie?" A static voice broke the silence. Aislynn wouldn’t be talking if it wasn’t important.

 

"Yeah, Lynn?" The man, Charlie, responded with equal static on her end of the radio.

 

"You have a patrol of three sentries moving your way." A hiss had crept into the woman’s usually calm voice.

  
"Where are they coming from?" The man’s tone was worried but measured.

  
"Stark's. You've got about five minutes before they reach you. They're moving fast." Aislynn hissed her warning out, gripping the CB radio.

  
" _Shit_. Just my luck, huh?" Charlie was trying to be playful. He knew these situations were very easily the most stressful and his instinct to diffuse them never seemed to go away.

  
"Get your head out of your ass and move!" The woman snapped, her hiss melting from anxiety to anger.

  
"Okay, okay. Charlie out." The response was curt, but Charlie knew that Aislynn meant well despite her aggressiveness. She took her business _seriously_.

 

The man turned and warned the rest of his party, his dark brown eyes filled with concern for his cargo: an elderly couple and their grandchild who wouldn't survive the next winter if they remained.

  
His raised his hand to the duo of armed men following behind, three fingers up and waving in a circle. The men understood, removing the safety from their weapons with soft clicks and watching the skies.

  
It was dark outside, so the team took advantage of the cover and dodged through alleyways to reach a different path. Charlie's heart raced as he hid the family in the sewer lines, sealing them in under a manhole. The other two men ducked behind mounds of rubble while Charlie slipped behind an overturned dumpster. He pointed his hunting rifle (it was spray-painted matte black) at the sky, ready to fire.

  
"Lynn?" He whispered so quietly it was as if he hadn't spoken it all. The silence was nearly tangible.

  
"They're getting close, ETA two minutes. If you're lucky, they'll pass right over you." Aislynn said. "Maintain radio silence."

  
Charlie huffed. His grimy old military jumpsuit was feeling hot now, and his black hair, untrimmed for three months now, stuck to his forehead in a sweaty mass. He didn't dare to move though.

  
He heard whirring, the dull noise of a sentry's blasters getting closer to him. He nearly held his breath in anticipation and a slight tremor of fear washed over him. He looked to the other two men, James and Duke, and saw they were in a similar condition. Duke's round, dark eyes were jumping to and fro in nervousness while James was sweating through his clothes. James' blue eyes met his and they gave a quick nod to each other as if to say, _I'm afraid too, but I have your back._

  
The whirring got louder, closer. It was a sharp hissing and a pain to hear, but it told them where the sentries were. Charlie closed his eyes and said a quick prayer like he always did and smiled.

  
"Get ready, guys."

 

The sentries could be seen. Little blips of silver and blue, floating in formation as they descended before them. Duke prepped his pistol and James his shotgun.  
They got closer, but they weren't _slowing down_. They weren't going to land! Charlie smiled, and the others must have picked up on that too, because they had big grins on their wet faces too.

  
A few seconds more...

  
_Gone!_

   
The sentries passed right over their heads.

  
Radio silence. They were waiting for an all-clear from Aislynn. Who knows? Maybe the sentries circled back around?

  
"You're good, guys. They're moving west, past the old park." Aislynn's steady voice was like a piece of heaven, _sweet relief_!

  
"You don't how glad I am to hear the _leprechaun_!" Charlie laughed with a wide grin on his face.

 

"Shut up, Charlie! Get your people out of the hole and get moving! You still have a _long walk_." The woman hissed over the radio. Aislynn still had her Irish accent, even after having lived in America for nine years.

  
"Sure thing, _sweetheart!_ " Charlie couldn’t help but poke at her; they had been friends since she had first moved to New York.

  
"And don't call me sweetheart. It makes me _sick_." Aislynn said with a low rasp. They could hear the mock gagging noise she made in her throat.

  
Duke chuckled deeply at Charlie and his interaction with the woman. The man reached down and pulled the child out from the sewer, then the elderly, and replaced the heavy manhole. It was no secret that Charlie had a thing for Aislynn, though just about everyone also knew that Aislynn was _not_ fond of Charlie in that particular way.

  
"You know she doesn't like you." Duke had a deep voice, but it thrummed with an affectionate laughter.

  
"Sure, Duke." Charlie snapped with a role of his eyes, tossing his rifle over his shoulder. James chortled nearby, nearly falling over (it wasn't really that funny, but James loves to laugh).

  
"Lynn likes you no more than Duke is white." James pointed at the other laughing man, whose dark skin was still prickled with sweat. Charlie's face soured, but he maintained his friendly air with the men.

  
"Come on, these people still a-ways to go to reach the trade-off," Charlie reminded them with a wave of his hand.

 

The trade-off, a site where people went to escape from the east coast, was pretty much any house that bordered a non-eastern state. They usually formed a long line of houses all the way down to the southernmost states where they could more easily cross the Mississippi River. The southern states were more so what pushed the Corps' cargo westward. The one they were headed to was in lower Pennsylvania. Once there, they would drop off the cargo to the next group of “relocators”. This next group would escort them all the way to Ohio, from home to home on the northwestern stretch, where they would finally join up with the U.W.S.

 

“You still aren’t moving,” Aislynn’s voice growled over the radio again, startling the group.

  
"We’re on it," Charlie responded quickly, trying not to anger the rooftop dragon any further.  


\----

  
Aislynn sat back in her old beach chair, finally watching Charlie’s group move off to their destination. His group was usually the one that took the longest to reach their destinations, and almost always needed extra supervision. They got the job down, just not as efficiently as Aislynn ever wanted.

 

Leaning into her seat, which was draped in blankets, she closed her tired eyes. Her heavy set of binoculars fell into her lap as she breathed in the cool night air.  

  
"Another job done," She sighed.


	3. How Interesting...

The day was dark, dreary, and terribly overcast. A cold wind was dipping down from the far north, chilling the dying trees of New York. Winter was coming to an end, but it was hanging on by its last icy teeth. The winter was hard. It always was. The snow wasn't too deep, but it still caused problems for people getting from place to place. The wind was worst, especially since Aislynn lived on the top floor of a high-rise building. The Irish woman was glad she had stocked up on old ruined books and scrapped tables and chairs to burn in the woodstove in her apartment. She'd managed to keep it toasty and warm most of the winter. 

Aislynn was lying on a mattress, bundled up in a large mass of quilts and comforters. She had three massive pillows to go along with it. Her hazel eyes watched the clouds move with the wind; they were speeding past her. She sighed and rose to her feet. She was wearing her favorite pair of fluffy blue pants (which she saved for the coldest winter nights) and a thin sweatshirt over a tank-top. Sleepily, she stoked the fire that burned in her stove, and set a pot on top of it, allowing it to heat up. 

She went to the bathroom to take care of herself and then returned to the now hot pot. Using a dirty mitt, she picked up the pot and put it under the sink faucet. Less than drinkable water flowed out, but that was why she was going to boil it. While the stove took care of that, she got dressed for work (and by work, that means a day of scavenging). 

She changed into jeans (nice winter clothes were extremely hard to come by nowadays), a thick, bright red jacket with two layers of warmth and a fur-lipped hood. She slipped on a black cap, scarf, and gloves, and then finished with her leather boots. She felt bad to wear the jacket, since it was such a nice pretty one, but her last jacket had gotten torn up by a stray piece of iron rebar. 

"Prepare yourself for the cold, Lynn. You always hated the cold." She was talking to herself, which was quite a frequent thing. 

She opened a door and climbed up to the roof, carrying a bag of seeds and corn for her chickens. It didn't take long to do her daily chores: feed the chickens, check the rain bins, and then check the tower for activity. When all was said and done, Aislynn headed back down to enjoy a small breakfast. 

Indoors, her water was now boiling and clean, so she added a small teabag to make her tea. She went to her pantry, which was stocked full of canned food, instant meals, and MREs (meals ready to eat) that she had nabbed from a local base. Grabbing a small can of peaches and a few crackers, she sat down to eat. 

~~~

Ultron watched the cityscape beneath him. His silver shape stood out against the darkened buildings and dreary sky. The crimson glow of his eyes glittered in the dull light of the day. He focused on nothing in particular, just taking in the sight of a city he now controlled. He had gotten rid of the humans' military forces and the forsaken Avengers, and either killed or scared off the general population of the east coast. Right now, he was standing on the precipice of Stark's old tower. He, of course, had destroyed any shred of evidence that Tony was still in control or had any power over him. He never renamed it, never felt the need to. The humans may think they needed a new name for it, but he didn't see why. It was just a building, nothing but metal beams, concrete, and glass. Gazing down, he could see how dilapidated the city of New York had become. He felt no shame, no pity, nothing. Ultron had no emotional connection for the city. It was just a city. 

He sent out a few patrols; he hadn't been too successful in stopping the damnable "Apple Corps" and it was becoming quite irritating. Ultron hated humanity and everything they stood for, or thought that they stood for. Three silver sentries took off by his far right, their blue lights glowing faintly as they shrank into the darkness.   
Ultron turned his musings back to the forlorn city. The sky only got darker as the sun began to set, casting long shadows below him. He longed for a world that was perfect, to sweep away all of the filth that human kind had caused. Even now he looked to this ruined city and planned on how to fix it, to make it good. He would rebuild everything, make everything new. He'd have to reuse some materials of course, and wouldn't take too long to complete with his legion of metal men.  
Ultron walked to the edge of the building. A cold breeze blew past, pushing him only slightly. The wind was strong up there, but he was stronger. Eyeing the sky and mapping his sentries’ paths, Ultron decided he'd go for a flight himself. Of all the cities and land that he controlled, the most urban areas were the most entertaining. He allowed himself to be blown off the edge of the building and gravity immediately reached for him. It pulled him down fast as it could. As soon as Ultron had passed several building's roofs, he activated his blasters and leveled out. He darted through the city with no true course. The cold wind that rushed past him did not affect him. It didn't sting or chill him, but he could feel that it was cold. 

Turning down random streets while simultaneously avoiding the paths of other sentry groups, he meandered through the extensive city. He saw a few humans, all who took to hiding as he flew past, not knowing he had simply spared them. He could go back and kill them, but Ultron felt one had to be in the mood to just start killing people. It was dirty and unpleasant work, one he did not particularly enjoy, and he'd rather do it only when truly necessary. Slowing down, he landed near a crossroads and took a few steps down a northward street. Cars littered the road, rubble from explosions (all rather small ones by the way) and various items lay strewn about. It was easy pickings.

Looking around, he saw nothing of interest. Ultron was just about to take off when he heard, or thought he had heard, a child's laugh. 

Odd, he thought to himself.

He stood stock still, waiting to see if the noise might repeat itself. Several moments passed and he sighed, shuffling his shoulders in a nonchalant manner. All of the sudden something crashed into his left leg, falling back to the ground with a soft thud. Turning quickly turned to see what it was. A small female child, hardly above the age of six years, sat before him rubbing her eyes. The child, dressed in ragged winter clothes, let out a soft apology.   
"I'm sorry I hit you. I wasn't looking..." She stopped when her blue eyes met Ultron's crimson ones. A look of pure innocence crossed her face, as if she was unaware of who he was. He squatted before the child and lifted her up to her feet. She wobbled a bit, but stood up and smiled at him, straightening her little pink cap. 

"Thank you! I'm really sorry I hit you." She repeated her apology once more, and Ultron was surprised that she still didn't fear him. 

"Are you really sorry?" Ultron asked softly. He wanted to see how long this lasted. 

"Yes, sir!" She smiled again; her cheeks were bright red now. Ultron didn't know if it was from the cold or from embarrassment. 

"Then it's okay. Just don't do it again, understand?" Ultron didn't mind children. He knew that they still had so much to learn, to develop and grow. They were blissfully ignorant and too innocent. This little girl was a perfect example. 

Rising to his full height, Ultron looked down on the little girl who was still smiling at him. 

"Emily! Em! Where are you?!" A woman shouted, yelling over and over for this lost person. Ultron heard the yelling and so did the child. The little human turned around and leapt for joy, shouting the caller's name. 

"Miss Lynn! Miss Lynn! I'm over here!" The little girl moved to take off towards the voice, but Ultron grabbed her and picked her up. She screamed of course, but mostly out of surprise and not out of fear. 

"Emily!" A young woman appeared before them; she was dressed in a bright red coat and carried a large rifle. The gun was pointed down, but her finger was on the trigger. Ultron watched in quiet satisfaction while she took in the scene before her. 

"Put her down." Her voice was hard like steel, and just as cold. She hadn't raised her weapon, but Ultron figured that was because she didn't want to hit the girl. 

Smart woman.

The woman, presumably "Miss Lynn", took a few measured steps closer. Her face was flushed red with heat and her pink lips were slightly parted as hot air escaped them. Her brow was furrowed in anger and worry as her eyes flickered from child to mech. 

"You shouldn't let your children run around on their own like that. Who knows what kind of people they might bump into?" Ultron was mocking her, chastising this small woman and her small child. 

"Then you shouldn't kill their parents." The response was quick and sharp, and it hit Ultron like a freight train. Nobody had ever talked to him like before. He knelt down and placed the child on her feet, giving her a stern look before letting her go. She bolted towards the woman, grabbing her legs and hugging them tightly. The little girl, Emily, immediately launched into explaining how she had run into Ultron and had apologized, and how he had forgiven her, and how he had picked her up and held her. The woman silenced her with a sharp hush and nudged the girl to be behind her. 

"Leave." The woman hissed through grated teeth. Her weapon was now raised, cocked and ready to fire.  
Ultron raised his hands into the universal symbol for "don't shoot." 

"This is my city you know. You can't just tell me to leave." Ultron once again chided her, goaded her into fighting him. Maybe she'd come back at him again? 

"Well, that is what I just did, wasn't it?" She pretended confusion, mocking him and his cocky assurances. She gave him a sly grin. Emily pushed forward and pulled on the woman's coat. 

"Don't shoot him, Aislynn. Please, oh, please don't!" Again the woman forced the kid behind her with a resounding hush. 

"You should listen to her, Aislynn." The mech lowered his arms and his voice. He was threatening her now, warning her to step off. 

"Don't you ever say my name! You have no right to say my name!" Aislynn stepped closer to him, her rage getting the better of her.

Ultron watched her with a foreign curiosity, admiring the woman's courage and her stupidity. He liked her. She'd proved herself, tested her mettle. 

"Take the girl home." Ultron spoke loudly, making sure the woman would hear him over the blood pounding in her ears. This woman was beyond lucky. 

Aislynn immediately lowered her weapon and her face changed completely. It was no longer angry, but thoughtful.  
She turned and threw the gun over her shoulder and picked up the child. She watched him the entire time, making sure it wasn't a trick or a trap. When she'd walked a couple paces down the road, she turned to face him again. 

"Thank you."


	4. Spotters and Spies

Aislynn sat in her greenhouse, generously sprinkling her plants with water from one of her rain bins. She was growing tomatoes, peppers, peas, onions, various fruits, and her pride and joy, a large potted apple tree. She had a couple of flowers, but she didn't spend that much time or effort on them as she had no use for them. They looked nice, she would admit, and during the summer she would display her roses, tulips, lilies, and (if she was lucky) sunflowers. People would comment that they could see the bright colors from her rooftop or her balcony. She checked over a few of her fruit plants, which mostly were not ripe, and she made sure that the greenhouse was at a good temperature. She walked out and locked the door, making sure that it was securely fastened. 

Descending back down the steps, she prepared for another day of work. Today Aislynn would have to help guard a local apartment and keep an eye out for sentries; the Apple Corps were loading up supplies to transport farther north for other Corps teams. Aislynn hated this job, mostly because it meant she had to leave her home for quite some time. She could lock her doors and windows all she wanted, but someone could still break in and steal all of her food stores, her animals, her clothes, even her solar panels or generator. 

Throwing on her red coat, Aislynn grabbed her backpack, stuffed it full of provisions like snacks and ammo, and then grabbed her rifle. She cleaned it often, as it had been her father's favorite gun for hunting. Slinging its strap over her shoulder, Aislynn locked down the house. She had boards that she sat in front of the windows, and a metal pipe the she shoved in the track of the sliding glass door. 

"God, please bless this house." Aislynn prayed quickly, hoping no one would rob her today. 

She, being clever woman she was, had six deadbolts on her door. She only locked three at a time, so if someone tried to pick them they'll always unlock three and lock the other three. She changed the order everyday so no one could develop a pattern and get in. Of course they could always cut the locks off or bust the hinges, or just ram the door, but Aislynn felt safer like this. 

She climbed down several flights of stairs, always wishing the elevator worked, and walked outside. 

Aislynn could tell spring was coming. The wind was still cold, but the air wasn't. It was wet now, as the snow and ice had started to melt and run down the drains in the street. All of the dirt and mud mixed with the snow, making it easier to track people. Her boots crunched in the slush, and she was glad she'd worn her leather ones instead of her cloth ones. The woman pulled her hair back into braid; she was tired of the wind whipping it into her face. 

"Can't it just be summer already? I miss wearing shorts." Aislynn sighed as she kicked a pile of snow and mud. She turned down the street and walked past an old bakery. It windows were smashed and it was full of overturned tables and chairs. The weather had gotten inside and it was full of snow and ice, which had consequently formed puddles on the tiled floor.  
The walk only took about an hour and Aislynn enjoyed the peace and quiet. The only sounds to be heard besides the wind in the trees and her boots on the ground, was the distant bark of a dog and a few little songbirds. She'd missed the sounds of animals. Aislynn realized how much she'd taken for granted when the world was right. Before Ultron came and ruined everything. 

Aislynn approached the destination with a sour look on her face. Voices echoed out of its halls. Walking in, Aislynn noticed a close friend of hers, Haylee, standing by a closed doorway. Her back was to Aislynn. Sneaking quietly, she got as close as possible to the blonde woman and whispered into her ear. 

"Boo." 

The woman nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound; she whipped around and pulled out her Bowie knife. She pointed it at Aislynn, unaware that it was her friend.  
"Aislynn! You can't go around scaring folks like that, Hun." Her Georgian accent permeated the air as her grey eyes recognized the woman. Putting away her knife into its sheath strapped to her thigh, she hugged her friend tight. 

"I'm sorry, Haylee. You just make it so easy sometimes." Aislynn hugged her back, squeezing the thin woman to her body. 

Haylee straightened up and adjusted her sky blue coat. It didn't have a hood, so she was wearing a pink cap with the letters N.Y.C. stitched into it. Her flat hair hung nearly to her waist, but you could see where she'd used her knife to trim it. 

"So what's up for today's haul?" The question altered the mood instantly, as they had come to work. 

"Just a bunch of little stuff. Blankets, clothes, a couple of guns." Haylee led the other woman through a dark hallway and down some stairs. Reaching a lower level, which was a parking garage, they saw seven large bags being loaded up. A few pistols and clothes were in four of them, two had blankets and ammunition, and the last one had a shotgun, ammunition, and a few clothes in it. The people to carry them stood not too far away; they were talking quietly with each other. They were probably making plans for the route. 

Haylee turned to Aislynn and smiled brightly. "We got scout duty. Frontlines." 

Aislynn frowned. She hated frontline duty. "Really? They know I'm better on rooftops, Haylee. I can see more from up there." The aggravation was evident in her voice. Haylee clicked her tongue and wrapped her arm around Aislynn's shoulders. 

"I know, sweetheart, but they want you down here today. They have someone else watching the skies for this run." 

"Who?" Aislynn asked rather dejected.

"Hampton and Lizz." 

"Are they freaking serious?" Aislynn groaned and threw up her hands in exasperation. "Why don't we just shoot ourselves now?" 

Haylee pulled the woman's arms down and hushed her. "They'll do fine, Lynn. You gotta give them a chance." 

Aislynn looked at her crossly and groaned. "Fine. But if one sentry, just one, gets by them," she shoved her finger in Haylee's round face for emphasis, "I swear I'll never let anyone else do rooftop scouting but me!" 

Haylee smiled and laughed at her. 

"You care, Lynn. That's a good thing! Just let others help you." When Aislynn still didn't look convinced, Haylee added, "You had to learn too, ya know." 

Aislynn grinned. "I did." 

"You were overly cautious. You got too worried, too afraid." Haylee nudged her friend. "But now you're just right." 

Aislynn laughed at her friend. She pushed her shoulder gently and Haylee pushed her right back.

"I'll give them their shot, Haylee. But I still think I'm the best person for the job." 

~~~

3 Hours Later

~~~  
Aislynn crouched behind a flipped car while Haylee sprinted to cover. The two women were slowly creeping up to the drop-off point. Making sure the coast was clear for the cargo team, Aislynn signaled behind her for the pack leader to advance. He signaled back also, telling his team to follow. They slinked noiselessly after their pack leader, who was carrying a bolt action rifle and two switchblades. 

The two rear guards for the cargo team dropped behind, the right one breaking off to approach Aislynn. He nearly collided with her as he scooted in close to her. 

"What?" Aislynn asked quickly. She was keeping her eyes locked on Haylee, waiting for the sign to advance. 

"We saw some tracks, not ours, but sentries." He whispered.

"Where?" 

"Well, it looks like just one, but it landed, took a few steps, and then flew off. It was really weird." He talked faster, the edge in his voice was coming back. Aislynn cursed under her breath.

"Sentries don't travel in less than groups of three. If you saw tracks like that, it wasn't a sentry." Aislynn stood up and padded closer to her position up front. The rear guard followed her, a fearful look on his face. 

"But... That means... it was..." He couldn’t finish his sentence.

"Get back in position." Aislynn snapped. "If it is him, we need to be on top of our game."  
Aislynn signaled to the pack leader to halt while she spoke with Haylee. He nodded, signaling again. The dark haired woman slid up to the other and hissed quietly. 

"One of the rear guards spotted tracks." 

"Well, duh. We made them." Haylee scoffed with mock surprise.

"No, Haylee." Aislynn grabbed Haylee's shoulders and made to face her.

"It's Ultron." 

"Shit." Haylee cursed. 

"We need to move. We are almost at the drop-off. If we pick up the pace, we can make it and then scatter." Aislynn was thinking quickly. Haylee looked her in the eyes and nodded.  
"Tell them, then get a hold of the rooftop. I'm gonna move up." Haylee perked up and then darted forward from cover to cover. 

Aislynn darted back and started signing to the pack leader, who carried on the message. They moved quickly, both the intent to finish and fear guiding them forward. Aislynn pick up the radio and hailed the rooftop. 

"Hampton, Lizz?" 

"What's up, Lynn? You make it to the drop-off yet?" The voice was slow and deep. 

"No. What the hell are you guys doing up there? We got sentry tracks!" Aislynn was pissed.

"Hold up, Lynn. We have nothing up here. Not a single sentry. Nothing." Hampton's voice got serious; the frantic sound off shuffling could be heard.  
"Well, look harder!" Aislynn hissed. She gritted her teeth and groaned. Running back up to take her place, she snaked through rubble and over cars to reach Haylee. She whistled to the rear guard to get his attention and signaled for him to keep a tighter formation and watch the sky. Turning down a back alley, she cut through and reappeared off to the blonde woman's right side. 

"The rooftop has nothing. No activity." Aislynn was quiet. Her cheeks were blushed from the cold. 

"Well we're almost there. Just this last block and we're clear." Haylee's blood was pumping, her heart roared in her chest. 

"Mad dash? Or push through?" 

"We'll push. We can make it." 

Haylee signed for them to push through, which meant setting a brisk pace to reach the drop point. They understood and began moving faster, forming a single file line as they rushed past. 

Haylee and Aislynn charged back around, sidestepping garbage and wrecks. The drop-off was in sight. Haylee whistled for a mad dash into the building. Immediately the cargo team took off in a full blown sprint while the rear guard covered their backs and the forward scouts covered their approach. 

When they entered the lower entrance to the building, pressing into the trade house, the forward scouts remained outside to keep an eye on things.  
Haylee approached Aislynn and bumped her shoulder into her. 

"Now for the return trip. Excited?" Haylee smiled and chuckled. Aislynn shook her head and grinned at her friend's exuberance. 

"More than you'll ever be." 

~~~

Ultron had watched the whole little scene. Standing on the top of an apartment building, he could see everything. He had seen them sneak around like everyone was out to get them (which in this case may have been partly correct). Ultron knew they were smuggling weapons to other groups. That wasn't why he was watching them though. He was watching one particular human, the same one from two weeks before, the one that had stood up to him. 

Aislynn. 

She was interesting to say the least; she was unlike any human he had the displeasure of meeting. 

Ultron would talk with her again.


	5. Rooftop Meetings

"Alright guys, we're finished for the day. You all head home and stay safe." A tall man named Max called from the table he was standing on. His leather jacket was worn and faded, but the blood red shape of the apple over his breast pocket was new. The people congregated before him cheered, clapping and smiling. The triumph in the man’s voice had led to a more-than-pleased crowd. Max jumped down from his table and he shook some hands, clapped a few friends on the shoulder, and was smiling throughout it all. When he reached the end of the mass, Max spotted the one person he needed to speak to. He cast his brown eyes over the crouching shape of a woman. She was kneeling in a corner, rifling through her backpack for something. Her shining hair was in a long braid and her coat was sprinkled with dirt. Her hunting rifle was slung over her back, showing off the woman's lethality.

  
"Aislynn!" Max's voice was rich with the sound of leadership. While he wasn't the official leader of the Apple Corps, many regarding him as so and treated him as such. Aislynn's head turned and she stood up when she recognized him.

  
"Hey, Max. What do you need?" She wiped her hands off and stuck them in her coat pockets. Her body language made her seem approachable, but everyone knew she was just a very sassy, very smart woman. Her wit was a sharp as a blade and her silver tongue was just as deadly. The woman could be your closest friend or worst enemy.

  
"I need your eyes on the sky tonight, Lynn. We don't have anything planned, but..." He hesitated to explain. His hand was scratching the back of his head, running his gloved fingers through his light brown, but neatly cut, hair. Max was a good leader, but he was too much of a people pleaser.

  
"It's about those tracks, yeah? That was a week ago." Aislynn finished for him, guessing quite accurately what this was all about. She crossed her arms across her chest and scowled.

  
"Yes, Aislynn. I need to make sure we're not being watched." He tried to placate her, his word trying to take on an authoritarian note.

  
"We are being watched, Max. Always. Just like how we are always watching them." Her voice was soft with understanding yet tinged with aggravation; her outward attitude may have changed in hearing the worry in her leader's words, but her nagging disbelief in the man’s paranoia bubbled inside her. Aislynn, in an attempt to seem kindly, unfolded her arms and grinned.

  
"I'll keep watch, worry-wart. Don't worry. It's not like I have anything better to do." She was smiling (a real smile, by the way), trying to lighten the man's spirit. Her resentment wasn’t for the man, but for his endless worrying.

  
"Where do you want me to focus?" Aislynn’s tone was serious, but her kindliness never left her thick accent.

  
"Stark's Tower." Of course. Why did she even bother to ask?

  
"You got it boss. I'll keep you informed."

  
"Thank you, Aislynn. I don't know how far we would have gotten without you." He placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking her fondly, and smiled as he walked away. She watched him disappear into the small mass of Corp members, hoping no one else would break off to speak with her. After a few moments of languid debate, Aislynn sighed and threw on her backpack, shifting her gun to the right to a more comfortable position.

  
She had a long night ahead of her.

Again.

  
~~~

  
The sun was sinking. Its great shining mass was disappearing from the sky to set in the west and rise once more, ever as bright, in the east. The clouds were thin, wispy shapes that left long streaks against the colorful dusk sky. They melted into the atmosphere, colors bleeding into one another. The soft pinks mixed with the oranges and purples, the sharp silver of the clouds into the remaining pale blues. The sun itself seemed to change color; from the blinding white to a crisp yellow, then to turn a mellow orange and finally a cool red as it sank ever lower. When it reached the horizon, a large streak of red seemed to spread from the sun and separate the earth and sky. It was a fissure of blood red, a scar across the horizon. Soon the colors would all melt and fuse into a deep, rich blue and then into a pure black speckled with bright stars. The moon, in all of her glory, would shine like a pale sun with cold light, basking the world in her gentle beams.

  
It was beautiful. Really one of the few things Ultron actually enjoyed on Earth. He liked the natural processes of the world, processes too mighty to be tamed or controlled by mankind. That was a fairly big reason behind his obvious affection for the natural world. Ultron enjoyed the cycles of nature, the storms, the landscapes, and the inescapable order of life and death between predator and prey. At the current moment, he was standing on the landing strip of his tower, admiring the natural beauty of a world that man no longer influenced. The haunting calls of owls around the city could be heard, causing the silver mech’s attentions to shift from the inorganic to the organic. Among all the living beauty of earth, the animals had most amazed him. Yes, flowers and other flora were interesting as well, but never so much as the fauna. The animals, the wild things lived simplistic lives, lives of a natural, inborn purpose. Ultron had ultimately decided he was content to leave the vast majority of the animals alone once he had successfully cleansed the planet of humanity. The animals were already in enough danger from the humans alone, already struggling to live their lives, that he didn't feel the need to get rid of them. The animals were only victims of man’s selfish desire to control lives beyond their own.

  
Sort of what you’re doing, right? Deciding that man should be extinct, I mean.

  
Ultron sighed heavily; the mechanical being was unsure of when the little voice in the back of his mind had first come to be. It had just appeared one day, contributing snide remarks to his own thoughts. Sometimes it was helpful. The majority of the time it is no more than a lingering nuisance.

  
Like now.

  
Ignoring the voice, Ultron walked slowly, his crimson eyes taking in the sight of the night sky as the stars started to peek out, like little candles held high to flicker and dance in the darkness. He connected the major constellations he could pick out, naming each in turn with a voice barely above a whisper. He'd gotten into astrology recently (as he had not much else to do) and could identify every constellation in each season's sky. Ultron had read the stories behind the star formations; some myths were interesting, while some had been rather… odd.

  
Humans are weird. He thought this with a grin. The twinkling sparks shone bright, the city’s buildings becoming a dark mass, a gloomy silhouette, contrasted by the heavenly lights.

  
"And to think the humans neglected this beauty with the lights from their cities." His voice was sad and full of disappointment. But Ultron was right (totally not lying here, but several people would have agreed with him on this). Ever since he had cut the power to the larger buildings and skyscrapers, the night sky and all of its stars had finally become visible to the stargazers below. Ultron treasured this sight far more than you'd think (Ultron is really quite sensitive, you know) and found himself out here quite frequently. He felt especially close to the stars here, close to the heavenly bodies that man had attempted, quite fervently, to understand.  
The silver being was quiet for a long time, only interrupted in his peace by updates and reports from his sentries and the occasional avian passerby. Ultron quickly sent his multitude of sentries back out once they had been promptly examined and recharged; Ultron had them constantly running when he could spare them, as he needed to keep a crimson eye on the increasing amount of armed civilians. Not a true issue, not really, but it was satisfying knowing the people of the city feared the very sound his sentries made upon approach. A small chuckle escaped from the mech as he imagined the people’s looks as they gazed at the sky in sheer terror.

  
Turning back to his right, he looked over at the nearby buildings; they were dirty, covered in the grime of the city. They were mostly business centers and complexes, a few parking garages, and several small apartment buildings. Most of the structures were abandoned, picked clean by scavengers early in the takeover, but he knew that three of the closest ones had inhabitants. The farthest of the three, which was also the largest, was at about three-fourths occupancy. They lived far enough away that Ultron didn’t bother with them. Not like he would. The second closest was smaller, and only twenty people lived within. The very closest one, which was of medium height and nicely constructed, only housed one person. Ultron had guessed that no one would live within a two-hour walking distance to his tower. Ultron had guessed wrong. Using the cities local records and several hours of finding nothing particularly useful, he had figured out exactly who the brave soul was to live so closely, and it was none other than Aislynn. What did the humans call that again?

  
Coincidence?

  
His curiosity, fueled by his twisted misunderstanding of mankind, got the better of him as he took off towards the little building.  
It was time to pay Aislynn a visit.

  
~~~

  
Aislynn dragged an old blanket to the rooftop and settled it into her fold-up beach chair. Two cinderblocks and a thick piece of plywood made a small table next to her chair, where a radio, lantern, and thermos sat. She went back to grab her rifle and a small package of crackers and headed back upstairs to begin her watch.

  
“This is so unnecessary.” Aislynn groaned as she hastily checked over her belongings.

  
Quietly looking in on her chickens, she replaced the tarp on the front of the coop to keep the wind out. She settled in her chair and folded the soft blanket over her legs, placing the rifle in her lap. Aislynn tuned the radio and kept it low so that if the Corps tried to reach her, it wouldn't give her away. Raising her high-powered binoculars to her eyes, the woman gave the area a quick once over and then scanned the tower. She saw nothing, like always, and removed the binoculars. She sat back and closed her tired eyes, sighing heavily. Aislynn had gotten absolutely no sleep these past few nights and the exhaustion was starting to wear on her.

  
Thanks, Max, and to your endless paranoia.

  
Aislynn’s breathing steadied, but she couldn't fall asleep. As much as she hated this job, she wouldn't let Max or the Corps down. Their trust in her was worth more than few nights of sleeplessness. Every few minutes she'd scan the cloudless sky and Stark’s old tower again, do a little check on the streets nearest her position, and go back to listening with her eyes closed. Aislynn missed the old world, but she was grateful for the clean air and clear skies. No more noxious gas fumes or car exhaust, not even the concrete dust of construction. The constant, dull throbbing of helicopter blades were gone, the high-pitched wails of a passing airliner were silenced. She could finally listen to birds sing and the wind whistle through narrow streets and over glass buildings. Aislynn was happy to not have to listen to honking, growling cars and blasted music every night. Breathing deeply, the woman melted into her chair, the warmth of the blanket heating her to the bones.

  
A few silent moments of peace.

  
But of course, when you just start getting comfortable…

  
A low, dull whirring accompanied by the hiss of air, the kind of whirring Aislynn had conditioned herself to be aware of, had reached her ears.

  
There goes my peace and quiet, she hissed inwardly.

  
The hum of the sentry got far too loud far too quickly, and Aislynn bolted upright. The blanket fell to the ground, the chill of the air stinging through her clothes. She pulled her rifle up and released the safety, setting it ready to fire. It felt natural in her arms, like an extension of herself. Maybe I’ll finally get to shoot the damn thing.

  
The woman stood stock still, waiting for the sentry to pass. Faster and louder, the irritating noise grew until Aislynn could see the shining silver of the sentry’s body. Looking through the rifle’s scope, the woman’s blood froze and her muscles tensed up. Fear crept into her heart, clawed its way about her body. It got closer, closer still, and she found herself shaking. What scared her most was not that it was a lone sentry in close proximity (that was something she could handle), but that it glowed with a sickening red light and not the characteristic neon blue. Just about every man, woman, and child knew that a bright red glow meant something very, very bad.

  
It closed in (well, not "it", it was obviously Ultron) and the woman regained control of her trembling body. By the time Aislynn had focused through her scope and was ready to shoot, the mech had diverted left and down almost exactly as her finger touched the trigger, only to reappear behind the woman and land on the gray rooftop with a soft thud.

  
Aislynn swung around, her long braid whipping against her face, and aimed at the silver mech. He immediately raised his hands, as he had done the first time they met in an attempt to dissuade the woman from shooting him, and gave her the same sly, unnerving smile. Creeping forward, Ultron observed the woman. She was enraged, nervous, afraid. The rifle she carried was lethal, and so was the woman holding it. Ultron saw before him an enigma wearing torn blue-jeans and an oversized black shirt, a woman with nothing yet everything to lose.

  
That made her even more dangerous.

  
"Don't shoot. I just want to talk." His voice was unnaturally smooth with the hint of a mechanical timbre. His eyes were flickering from wide eyes to her weapon, internally debating on whether or not to knock the gun from her hands. Ultron decided not to, a plethora of simple reasons flooding his mind.

  
"We have nothing to talk about. Now get off my roof." Aislynn kept her weapon up, hissing at him with a seething anger, fueled by the disgust at her own fearfulness.

Rage can make you powerful, but fear will make you stupid.

  
"Don't we?" He asked, but he got no response from the armed woman. "I won't shoot if you won't shoot." Crimson eyes met hazel and the flicker of a flame was born between them.

  
Aislynn hesitated, her mind firing off scenarios (none ending pleasantly), but her eyes never left him. Her stare was like a tangible, molten rage. The fire was stoked by a forge of hate and anger. She lowered her weapon, slinging it over her shoulder, leaving it cocked and ready to blow a massive hole through the psycho machine. She crossed her arms and scowled at the silver snake. Mistrust beamed off of her skin like the moon’s silver rays.

  
"What do you want?" Her voice dripped with poison. She hoped he choked on it.

  
"To talk." He took a few steps closer to her, but he watched her step back. He stopped his advance.

  
"You're a very interesting person, you know." He said this slowly, not meeting her flaming eyes for the thought that they’d burn through him. Ultron had never known a human to possess eyes so fearsome. Not even the Avengers had eyes like those, eyes that were bright like stars but burned like acid.

  
"Oh, really? And what makes me so interesting?" Aislynn placed her hands on her waist and continued to keep her distance from the mech. This was no place for fear, and the woman knew well enough that this being before her may talk like a snake, but he had a bite just as deadly.

  
Her confidence is mildly unsettling, Ultron thought with a grin. No matter.

  
"Well for one thing you're talking, not shooting at me like a madwoman." Ultron had wit and he made sure to use it. He smiled a coy smile at her, hoping to extinguish the blaze in her eyes. He noticed her eyes flicker at his ploy, only to resume with a glare harder than iron when she caught herself.

  
"If it would make you feel better, I can always shoot you now." Aislynn raised her gun with a mock innocence and smile to rival Ultron's own. Her voice was sweet like honey, but he could detect the poison within. A soft mechanical laugh echoed from his silver body. This would be fun.

  
You like this, don’t you? Witty banter and coy smiles? Ultron conceded to himself.

  
"While it might, I'd prefer that you didn't, for both of our sakes." His voice was still light and fooling, but Aislynn noticed the veiled threat in his words.

  
“Sounds like a plan. Now what did you want to talk about so I can get this over with and get you off my roof?” Aislynn adjusted her rifle’s strap and stared at Ultron. Her smoldering hazel eyes never left his crimson ones, always maintaining a constant connection. She’s watching you like a deer watches a wolf. Waiting, ready to fight or flee.

  
“Get this over with? You act like I’m bothering you.” He chuckled with a lighthearted smirk. Witty banter seemed to keep the woman’s attention.

  
“Ha! Don’t you have a city to run? A nation to conquer? I’m sure this little ‘discussion’ is more of a hindrance to you anyways.” She laughed, full of malice, and yet still a tinge of sadness, a longing for the past, had crept into her voice. Something had broken inside the girl, changed her attitude.

  
Ultron caught it. Tossing an imaginary coin inside his head, he thought it best to keep the conversation less serious and more playful. The mech would get more information that way.

  
Information? You just wanted to talk to the girl. Snide as always, Ultron retorted.

  
“While I am very busy, the welfare of my people is also forefront in my mind.” Ultron spoke like a politician with faux warmth in his mechanical voice. He noticed the fire dim in her eyes, but not enough to calm any lingering hostility. Aislynn snorted and choked back a laugh at Ultron’s response. Her smile was genuine, something Ultron had yet to witness firsthand.

  
“You’re hilarious. Anybody ever told you that?” Aislynn sat down on the ledge of the building, her legs hanging over the edge, and placed her hands on either side of her. She began taking out her braid. Aislynn had decided that if Ultron was going to kill her, a hunting rifle wasn’t going to stop him. She might as well make herself comfortable and enjoy the chilly, starry night.

  
Ultron noticed how her defensive posture had changed to much more relaxed one (perhaps she was faking it, but Ultron didn’t seem to care at the moment, as the sudden change in temperament was surprising to say the least). Ultron stepped closer to her now, standing by the ledge only six feet away. Her hostility did not rise, but he noticed the woman cast a sideways glance at him. He watched her features soften, watched her blazing eyes become cool as shade on a hot day. Just like that, she had gone from hostile to hospitable. He watched her thread her fingers through her fiery brown hair, the waves spreading like a veil over her thin frame.

  
“No. But there’s a first for everything, right?” Ultron liked her (he probably wouldn’t admit this to himself for another several days). He watched as her deft hands finished undoing her lengthy braid and they began to card through the warm brown lengths to remove any remaining knots. Pushing her hair off her shoulders, Aislynn sighed and began swinging her legs slowly. A hum rose in her throat, interjected by her question.

  
“So why talk to me?” Aislynn let her hands rest on her legs, intertwining her fingers, her hazel eyes swarmed with confusion as she turned to look at the mech. The woman’s hair framed her face like a lion’s mane, making her round features seem even softer, her eyes sharper. Ultron took on a serious face, like he was really giving his best effort to answer her question. He gave a soft grunt, crossing his arms and shrugging non-committedly.

  
“You didn’t shoot at me.” Ultron said flatly. No emotion, nothing. He noticed her smile droop a little, only to grow brighter. He could see the devilish little gears turning in her head.

  
“And here I was thinking you were gonna say I was pretty.” She laughed and pretended to be offended, blinking quickly. The innocence in her voice stirred him and he watched her cheeks flush from the cold. Ultron couldn’t help but to smile also, and a small laugh (a genuine laugh, mind you) escaped him.

  
“Well that too.” Ultron added with a charming smile, playing into her game. It only resulted in another rich laugh from the woman. When her laugh quieted, Ultron could hear her humming softly to herself.

  
Silence passed between the two souls for a few minutes. Aislynn continued to watch the skies as she was swinging her legs and quietly mouthing the words to her song.

  
“Why New York?” Aislynn shifted to look at him. “I mean, why did you come back here and not try somewhere else? Somewhere new?” Her voice was soft, distracted, and didn’t seem to hold any malice towards him. It caught the mech off guard. Ultron looked up with a dark glow in his eyes, one of pain or anger you wouldn't have been able to tell.

  
"It's a long, complicated story, and one I'm not in the mood to tell." His voice soured a little bit, but it still had its inorganic warmth. His crimson eyes met the woman’s forest-colored ones. The fire was back, but not a flame of rage; it was instead like a candle, warm and inviting.

  
"If you won't answer my question, then get off my roof." Aislynn countered with a soft smile, straightening her back and crossing her arms, her strong voice not missing a beat as she toyed with the mech once again. Two can play that game.

  
"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" Ultron retorted with a smirk, marveling at her rather confrontational words but completely opposite, friendly attitude.

  
As I said before, an enigma. Ultron could hear his own inner workings, could hear the wind passing through the crevices in his metallic shape as he thought quietly.

  
"I could say the same about you." A hollow silence followed the woman’s words; a foreign friendliness that he was not used to. Ultron shivered, but not from the chill in the air.

  
"So what do you plan to do with New York?" Aislynn asked to break the silence. Her words were gentle, her eyes more than welcoming. They seemed to yearn for knowledge, to know why, to know why Ultron did what he had, why he continues to do it. Ultron could tell it was not because she wanted to snitch on him (not like she had anyone to snitch to anyways), but because she honestly wanted to know.

  
And he wanted to tell her.

He liked talking, liked to share his plans. He had done this with the twins, with Wanda and Pietro, but it hadn’t ended well. Ultron burned for companionship, but he, for all of his intelligence, couldn’t figure that out for himself. Not just yet anyways.

  
"I'm going to cleanse it of humankind, rebuild it, then rule it." He said it like it was obvious, his eyes drifting to the horizon line.

  
"If you get rid of us, then who will you rule over? It'll be nothing but empty. You'll be alone." She sounded confused, but at the same time interested in what he had to say. She brought herself back over the ledge, her wavy hair like a curtain around her frame.

  
Ultron eyed her sharply. He could tell she'd meant no offense by the question, nor by her opinion of it. Her features betrayed no ill will, something the mech would come to appreciate in a world consumed by hate.

  
"It won't be empty. There will be my sentries, at first. Until I create more intelligences like myself."  
"So a city of one? If they're all like you, and created by you to be like you, then you'll have no one to talk to but yourself." She sighed, crossing her legs as she perched on the ledge.

  
"I'd get lonely real fast." Ultron scoffed at her response. It was amazing how simple minded humans could really be. Aislynn was looking at him now, an emotion in her face that Ultron didn’t recognize.

  
“Maybe I’ll keep you around then. You don’t seem so bad.” Ultron spoke as if he was a critic, as if he was judging her. Aislynn let out a small giggle and blinked at him.

  
“You’re not so bad, either,” The woman paused. “at least until you get to the whole ‘humanity’s extinction’ thing. But we can ignore that for now.” She winked at him, making air quotes to accentuate the extinction part.  
Ultron was shocked. How quickly this human’s demeanor had changed from defensive and vicious to witty and playful.

  
What other surprises did she have in store for him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really interested in you guys' thoughts! I know that Aislynn's and Ultron's behavior seems a bit accelerated, but I think that's just because when I write them together, Aislynn is so relaxed...  
> She just goes with it. She figures, "if Ultron wants to kill me, I can't really stop him, so I might as well enjoy myself." Her thinking that shoots their relationship forward by days! Ultron knows he enjoys talking to people, like how he did with the twins and Nat in the movie, so why would he not seek out someone else? What do you think?


	6. Drowzy Conversation

Aislynn had moved back to her chair, pulling her blanket up around her shoulders and folding it into her lap. Her hunting rifle was no longer around her torso; the weapon sat leaning against her makeshift table. She had a cup of warm tea in her hands, poured from her little yellow thermos. The stars twinkled overhead, no longer obscured by the city’s bright lights. Breathing deeply, Aislynn enjoyed that not a sound, other than her own heartbeat, the wind, and the mechanical whirring of Ultron’s body could be heard.

 _Ultron_. The mad-machine was still on her roof, still dragging on his little “talk”. Not to say that she wasn’t enjoying their back-and-forth banter, but it did feel strangely comfortable; it felt _normal_. Aislynn surprised herself with how lax she’d become, how she slumped against her chair, how she took her watchful eyes away from a definite threat. She’d even put her weapon down. She was treating him like an old friend, which for Aislynn, had never occurred before. The woman wanted to be cruel, to be harsh and defiant, but she couldn’t muster the attitude. Her crass behavior and violent tone of voice had disappeared and no matter how hard she had tried Aislynn couldn’t find them again. She melted into a complete stranger, someone who was good at playing coy, someone who was pleasingly sarcastic. Of course she blamed Ultron for the whole one-eighty personality change. If the murder-bot wasn’t so damn charismatic, she was sure she would’ve shot at him by now and she’d not have a thing to worry about.

Yet here she was, smiling to herself like a young schoolgirl when her crush talked to her.

 _Dumbass_.

Aislynn (who was now back in reality) was amazed at how calm she felt at the present moment (even as Ultron was watching her like a hawk, his intentions unknown) and about how friendly she had behaved despite being so close to the genocidal machine. Or person. Whatever Ultron was. She knew she had taken a sharp turn from her normal, much more logical behavior of defensive lethality and turned towards witty banter and coy smiles. She hated to admit it, but she loved being able to talk like that, to be rude and full of sass, yet still receive smiles and laughter. Odd, really, how she felt about the scenario. It was weird. Comfortable too, but mostly weird.

Turning to look at the mech, who was still standing not six feet away, she smiled to herself (it was a small, secret smile, like when you were looking at that cute kid in sixth grade). Aislynn found herself visually absorbing his physical shape, following the individual lines and contours of his body that made the larger, much more startling silhouette that many had come to fear. The crimson lights that coursed through his body and leaked out like fire shone from beneath his silver skin. At night, his body was even more luminous, as the starlight wasn’t strong enough to dull the crimson lights.

Aislynn found herself, much to her own embarrassment, attracted to the general form of Ultron’s body. She was rationalizing it in her head. _It’s aesthetically pleasing, that’s all._ A person can look good, they can be attractive, but that doesn’t mean you have to like them. _Yeah, that’s it._ She knew that if it hadn’t been a little chilly that night, she was sure Ultron would have seen her cheeks flush red, the heat flooding her pale face. Glancing at him through the corners of her eyes, she stole another peek at his metal physique. She sighed as a foreign rush of emotions burned through her.

 _Stop acting like a hormonal teenager, Lynn! He’s not even human!_ She scolded herself.

Yawning quietly, Aislynn sipped her tea (she was trying to distract herself) and continued to stare out at the stars. She cleared her thoughts and went back to focusing on the uninhibited city sky. Unbeknownst to her, Ultron had noticed her yawn and went through his own database on human behaviors to discover what it signified (you’d think he knew already, but he is rather clueless about humans). He may have been on Earth for only some time now, but he still didn’t understand all the nuances of humans. With the database, he found that Aislynn’s behavior was generally caused by a lack of sleep. It was already late at night and Aislynn (as a human) is a diurnal mammal, and she should be sleeping at the current hour.

She isn’t.

“Humans are usually sleeping right about now, correct?” Ultron asked, even though he already knew the answer. He motioned to the night sky when Aislynn casted him an odd look.

“Yep.” Aislynn sipped her tea again, savoring the flavor of the mint leaves mixed in, courtesy of her own garden of herbs. The warmth seeped through her body, making her sigh with content.

When the woman didn’t care to elaborate, Ultron groaned inwardly at the woman’s attitude.

“So why aren’t you?” Ultron turned to face her, closing the gap to a mere three feet. He moved to sit on the ledge nearest to Aislynn, his body angled her way. He stared into her hazel eyes, registering the tired, and slightly annoyed, look on the woman’s face.

 _Don’t get sassy with me._ Ultron chided inwardly.

“Oh, you do care about me!” She made a mocking gesture of sincerity by crossing her empty hand over her heart, her voice filled with fake elation. Ultron only stared, letting his flat features express his displeasure at her smart response.

_Damn. She’s a snarky woman, alright._

Readjusting her blanket and setting her emptied cup aside, Aislynn huffed and answered in a slow voice, measuring her words so as to keep out any sensitive info. She knew that Ultron had a less than friendly attitude towards the Apple Corps, so not mentioning them would probably be best.

“I’m at work, I’ll have you know. I’ve got to keep my eyes on the sky and look for any trouble before it happens.” She sounded weary, if not a little drowsy, but pride had found its way into her soft voice. Aislynn yawned again, her blanket pulled even tighter over her shoulders. Blinking slowly, she let her eyes fall on Ultron’s shining features as she waited for his inevitable reply.

“Oh, really? And what kind of trouble might that be?” He tossed in the hook, hoping she’d bite.

“The usual. Foreign aircraft, sentries, fireworks on the rare occasion, and… you.” Aislynn was grinning at him now with a sleepy, fond look buried under layers of demeaning sarcasm. It had been a long time since she’d had an even mildly intelligent conversation with anyone, much less had the pleasure of being snarky back and forth with them.

“Well you’re doing a terrible job.” Ultron commented rather bluntly, but still not unkind. A cheeky grin graced his features, and Aislynn raised a finger to her lips to hush the mech.

“Don’t tell my boss.” Aislynn was laughing quietly at him as she pulled her legs up and hugged them close to herself. She breathed deeply and sighed. _God, she was enjoying herself._ It probably didn’t help that in her exhaustion, she was a _much_ friendlier person.

“I won’t.”

“Do you promise?” She looked at him with a child’s grin, sweet and playful. He blinked. “You have to promise.” She insisted with a mildly serious, teasing note.

“I promise, Aislynn. Your boss won’t hear it from me.” He crossed a finger over his chest where his heart would be, making the shape of an x. It warranted a soft giggle from the woman, one Ultron found himself echoing.

“Are you enjoying yourself right now? Cause I think you are.” Aislynn tilted her head in his direction, eyeing him with an odd look, like a mix between a smirk and slight suspicion.

“You’re providing me with a rather pleasant conversation, if that’s what you mean.” Aislynn groaned at Ultron’s narrow response. His eyes were gleaming.

 _He’s freaking teasing me._ Aislynn huffed with exasperation.

“You’re annoying.” She sighed.

“That hurts my feelings, Aislynn.” He made a sad noise, like when you unplug something and hear that little mechanical whine.

“You have feelings? I would’ve never guessed.” Aislynn quipped, but she detected right away that she’d hit a nerve when she saw his gleam fade, watched his mood sour. She readjusted and spoke sincerely.

“I’m sorry. I guess that’s a bit of a sore spot for you?” She didn’t want to press her luck, but her sincerity got the better of her. “I’m sure it doesn’t help that most people are uneducated bigots, huh?” Leaning back into her chair, she caught Ultron straighten his posture, his attention grasped by her comment.

“And you’re not?” Ultron questioned, a sharp accusation in his tone.

“I try not to be. I was the pariah growing up, you know, because I wasn’t from America. I don’t want any else to feel like that.” Aislynn gave her reason, and yet she felt stupid for doing so because what did Ultron care?

“Then why point a gun at me like everyone else?”

“You’re a homicidal maniac!” Aislynn nearly shouted. “You can’t ignore the fact that you’ve killed innocent people to make a statement, Ultron. I had a legitimate reason to defend myself.”

Ultron didn’t like that. It was true, what Aislynn had said, but it made him feel awkward. Guilt and shame rose out of him and he knew he should feel them, but he didn’t think he ought to. It wasn’t fair really, that he should have to feel them. He raised his eyes when Aislynn spoke quietly again.

“But… Sometimes people, people like you,” Hazel eyes were melting into his, the cool green depths calming the fire that burned in crimson ones, “deserve a second chance because you weren’t quite ready for the first one.”

Ultron couldn’t respond to that. He was awestruck. His quips stuck in his throat at the thought that there was one person, a human no less, that thought he actually deserved another chance.

_Does she really believe that?_

Internally, he hoped with a bit more than everything that she did.

A different kind of silence passed between them, one of quiet understanding in the refusal to speak, as they slipped into an acquaintance with one another. Ultron loved how blissfully quiet the city could be now that the endless chatter of people and never-ending traffic had halted; the only sounds he picked up were Aislynn’s soft breathing and the notes of some foreign song dancing on her lips. Ultron was bewildered, amazed, and quietly thankful for how the human woman had treated him, how she had responded to his quips and conniving antics. She responded with a wit just as sharp as his own and a rich, sweet voice that was smooth like honey. The woman was definitely a confident, powerful being, full of intelligence, wrath… and mercy. He (and he’d never say this out loud) truly admired her. Aislynn was like a roaming tigress, (he knows full well that this is agonizingly cliché, but he can’t think of anything better at the moment) her appearance was attractive and alluring, but she was full of rage and armed to the teeth. Ultron wasn’t afraid of her, but he _was_ interested. She spoke to him like he was a person (which he is, of course) and it felt _good._

It was nice to have someone to talk to.

 _But why? What makes her so special?_ Ultron was wrestling with himself, trying to tame the storm of ideas that flooded his mind. Why would Aislynn treat him so differently as opposed to the rest of humanity? Why did she look to him with mercy and kindness after he had witnessed a fiery hell once burning within her hazel eyes?

Gazing at her now, Ultron could remember that intense heat that had flamed in her eyes. He enjoyed how they had cooled to reveal eyes like blessed shade, like an oasis in a dry desert, eyes like he had never seen before (again, he is not trying to sound cliché, but he can’t help it).

In their silence, he took his chance to analyze the physicality of the woman. Ultron noted how her voice was thick with an accent from a foreign country, as she had mentioned, most likely from Europe if he guessed correctly, but he knew that was a conversation for another time (he could guarantee there would be another time).

Ultron now observed her body, taking in every one of her organic curves and shapes, her colors and markings. Despite her being covered by the warm blanket, it didn’t stop Ultron from recognizing her physical attributes. Added to his previous sightings of the human woman, he had a decent idea of her physical shape. Aislynn was of a medium height, about five feet and some inches, with a similar build. Health wise, she was in good shape due to the strenuous and physically demanding lifestyle of a scavenger. Appearance wise (and this is going off of realistic beauty standards, not those designed and fabricated by the corporate industries) Aislynn had long hair of warm browns and golds that fell past her shoulders and formed a wavy curtain over her lithe frame, her eyes were a bright emerald green rippled with a multitude of ambers, and a sultriness to her ample curves. Her skin was fair, light, and speckled here and there with freckles. There was a few dusted over her cheeks, but three dark ones in the geometric shape of a triangle under one eye stood out.

By human standards, he would say she was beautiful.

She had several of the desirable traits that human men often searched for, and just as often objectified and took advantage of. Another thing about humans that had disgusted Ultron. That one sex was seen as lesser than the other and treated as such was a disgusting ideology. _Another conversation for yet another time._ Ultron marveled at her lithe shape and athletic build, noting how she had long legs and strong arms, and how she was peppered with small scars. They looked like they had been simple scrapes and cuts, none truly life-threatening. He didn’t know if she had gotten them before or after his rise to power.

“What are you staring at, mister?” Aislynn quipped, her full lips curling into a knowing smirk. She could see quite plainly what he was staring at. Ultron didn’t jump, but he was jarred from his thoughts.

“It’s odd how your flimsy bodies allowed you to make it this far.” Ultron quipped right back, feigning innocence. He pretended to be confused, to be disbelieving as he observed her vulnerable form. Quiet laughter flitted by him, filled with exhaustion and a tiny glimmer of something else. He crept ever closer to her and then leaned by her side, closing the remaining distance between them.

“Is that praise? Or is it meant to be an insult?” She played coy even as she nearly fell asleep. It didn’t stop her from grinning at him at him either.

 _Even her eyes are smiling._ Ultron didn’t understand her actions, didn’t understand why she _so damn friendly._ It was confusing. Like, really confusing.

Aislynn giggled softly when Ultron leaned over her; she could feel the heat radiating from his silver body. The warmth only made her feel more tired. Ultron huffed at her half-smile. He could feel her warm breath against his metallic skin, for he had gotten that close to the sleepy woman.

“We’ll say insult for now, how does that work for you?” Aislynn half-snorted and sighed with a wispy laugh. Sleep was only moments away from her. She rolled her eyes at him, muttering under her breath about someone trying to be the ‘king of sarcasm’.

Ultron righted himself quietly when her eyes fell closed, beginning to walk off and return to the tower. Approaching the ledge, he turned to look back at the resting woman. Her huddled form looked so small, so fragile and weak, but he knew that in the truth, she was as sharp as blade and cunning as a fox.

“Goodnight, Ultron. And be careful out in the city at night. You don’t know what kind of crazy you’ll run into.” Her eyes were closed as she spoke, her words called to him in the dull tones of drowsiness, barely above a whisper. He wondered if he was actually supposed to hear them.

Ultron’s repulsors kicked on and a sharp humming filled the air. He attempted not to wake her, but the sound couldn’t really be helped.

“Goodnight, Aislynn.”

~~~

Aislynn awoke with a start. Last night’s memories flooded back to her, all of them laced with a drowsy haze.

She couldn’t believe what she had done last night! Her body flushed with an embarrassed regret, as if she had done some shameful act.

_What the hell is wrong with me!? I should have shot that metal bastard!_

Quickly rising from her chair, she scanned the sky for sentries. Nothing. Her heart still racing, she rapidly packed up her things and meticulously stored them away. Coming back to the rooftop, she stood on the ledge and looked out over New York. There was no smoke, no screaming, and no people running for their dear lives. Good. Turning to her CB radio, Aislynn hailed Max’s personal frequency.

“Max? Do you read?” She didn’t want to sound frantic, but she was nervous. She fell asleep last night, who knows what kind havoc went on while she was dreaming away? A deep dread crept up her spine. What if Ultron had distracted her so that he could act out some fiendish plan of his? Aislynn prayed to the high heavens that it wasn’t so, even reverting to some of her mother’s catholic sayings.

“No good morning, Aislynn?” Max’s voice was cheerful and bright. It was immediately evident that nothing terrible had happened, and that Ultron had not done something horrible. The woman rolled her eyes in relief. Tense muscles relaxed as she slumped against the roof ledge.

“Good morning, Max. How’s everything on your end?” Aislynn asked, using her most polite tone of voice despite her mild aggravation.

“Right down to business, huh? Well it’s all fine and dandy over here, Aislynn. I don’t know what you’re doing up there, but there wasn’t a single bump in the night.” The woman sighed in relief once more, her remaining doubts quelled. Her fingers threaded through her hair as she took a deep breath. The crisp morning air was sharp and clear in her lungs.

“That’s good. Everything’s settled on my end as well.”

“You’ve been working really hard, Aislynn. How about you take the day off?” Max said quickly.

_Chipper as always._

“Really? So I don’t need to drop by the depot?” Aislynn’s voice obviously sounded elated.

“Nope. You deserve a break for all of your hard work.” Max caught her excitement.

“Thanks, Max.”

“Thank you, Aislynn.”

~~~

Ultron was still. He was standing in Central Park, a refuge for local wildlife and several small groups of people. He was observing the local animals, how the smaller birds were returning from the south as winter lost its hold, how the smaller mammals erupted from their burrows in the thawing earth, and how new plant life was sprouting up from layers of hard dirt. It was amazing, really, how organic life had persisted through the harsh winter. The trees were growing back all of their lost leaves, the flowers would bloom again, and the animals would graze and roam as they saw fit. Ultron admired the tenacity of the organic beings, watching as their futile regrowth only led to another period of death in the next winter. He knew it was the cycle of things. He knew that things were born, grew old, and then died, only to be supplanted by offspring. Ultron had come to accept the natural order, even admiring how the animals had accepted it as well.

The mechanical being had been standing still for so long that a young robin had flown down and perched upon his shoulder. Ultron turned to look at it, but his sudden movement frightened it, resulting in its hasty departure. His crimson eyes followed the bird’s frantic flight to a nearby birch tree, where it landed and began to preen.

His musings disrupted, Ultron turned his attention to the city he controlled. Taking off quickly, he gained altitude until he was satisfied with his view. His little flights had no true purpose other than for his own ego boost. Gliding over the ruined city, taking in the fearful gazes of the people below, and reveling in his success seemed to be the most common results.

Ultron twisted and turned down random streets and avenues with no particular destination in mind. His excursions had no true direction, so he tended to wander about. Ultron slowed his approach to a small brick building. Landing upon its rooftop, he surveyed what he could see from its vantage point.

He looked to the east: nothing but dilapidated building up to the coast.

He looked to the west: more empty buildings.

He looked to the south: buildings, a burned up billboard, and a few birds.

He looked to the north: Stark’s old tower and distant pillar of curling smoke.

For a brief moment, Ultron felt disappointment tear through him. Forcing it out, the silver mech wondered why the city felt _empty_. It still had a decent population, so why the eerie silence?

Ultron took off again and headed back to his tower.

He could worry about the empty feeling later.


	7. Human Factor

Winter was gone, but the air was still cold. Not really cold-cold, but more like a slight chill that bit at your cheeks when the wind picked up. It’s not shorts and tank-top weather just yet, but it will be soon enough. Aislynn couldn’t be more thankful for the rise in temperature, however slight it was. That was better than wearing a freaking twenty-pound jacket everywhere you went and wading through miles of thick snow (which was gone now for the most part). The grass had almost entirely come back where stone and concrete hadn’t covered the ground, and the flowers had begun to bloom with a colorful brightness that lit up the dreary city.

 _The world needs more flowers_ , Aislynn thought.

Trees were covered in fresh green leaves and budding blooms. The city seemed to have gained some color, some vibrancy, in a time when dark shadows were your friends. The trees were beautiful, but unfortunately, the blossoms and buds had produced the one thing that most normal people can’t stand. _Pollen_. The widely-hated plant particles were beginning to fill the air and a yellow-green dust seemed to cover every single surface in the entire city. Since nothing ever moved, the pollen had collected and collected until you couldn’t tell the original color of anything. _Everything_ was a dirty yellow-green. And not only that, the remaining people of the city had started to suffer from stuffy noses and sore throats, itchy eyes and sneezing fits. Nobody was happy about the pollen, but they were quite thankful that winter was finally gone. If you asked any one of them, they’d take pollen over winter any day.

Aislynn, of course, managed to find one of the last bottles of high-strength allergy relief. The little white tablets of loratadine offered twenty-four-hour relief without making you sleepy. Just what she needed. Aislynn made sure only to use them when her symptoms were really bad and only when she’d get the most use out of them. It was hard to find decent medications nowadays, since the pharmacies had been one of the first things to go when people started raiding businesses for supplies and such. Aislynn had taken one tablet around four in the morning today. She woke up with dry, itchy eyes and the inability to breathe through her nose. Relief was the first thought to enter her head. She knew she had a busy day ahead of her, so loratadine was going to be her best friend. When the woman finally stepped outside to begin her busy day, she was thankful for the blessing that was modern medicine, however hard it was to come by.

“God, I hate pollen. It’s the only bad thing about spring.” The woman paused as she walked down a narrow alley, freezing in place.

She whispered to herself, “I forgot about _the bees_.”

Shaking herself, the brunette continued down the street as she went along with her daily scavenging. Kicking little pieces of rubble as she passed them, Aislynn meandered through the alleyways and streets of the fallen city. The woman wasn’t looking for anything in particular the majority of the time, as she was very shrewd with her supplies, but found herself very often picking up trinkets and unnecessary objects along with any of the bare necessities. Her knapsack, a rough bag made of a greyish burlap material, had been carefully stitched together and hung at her waist with a single strap crossing over her chest (it was currently empty save for some provisions, but it wouldn’t be that long before Aislynn’s hoarding nature got the better of her). She always brought a light snack out with her, along with a bottle of water, a basic first aid kit, and a small weapon.

 _I’d rather be safe than sorry_ , Aislynn commented as she took a sip of her water.

Aislynn walked into an open street and felt the morning sun beam down on to her. The heat made her smile; she liked that the warmer weather allowed for her to wear a looser, less bulky clothes. She was wearing a navy sweatshirt and a pair of old jeans that had holes up and down the legs. Whether they had been designed like that or it had happened by accident she wasn’t sure. Her sweatshirt had “Linkin Park” printed across the chest in light blue. Aislynn liked Linkin Park’s music, so she had felt destined to find the sweatshirt in the rubble of a nearby consignment shop. Thankful for the warmer temperature, Aislynn wandered through the city with an optimistic attitude.

Climbing over an overturned Honda Civic, its scratched white paint turned a soiled yellow, Aislynn turned down a rather empty street which lacked any major piles of rubbish outside the norm. Peeking into various storefront windows, some shattered and some whole, she found an old bookstore, “Ginny’s Used Books,” that still had its windows mostly intact except for one large crack in the central display window where several overturned books lay. The store’s front door was firmly shut, not locked, but it seemed to be jammed from the other side. _Barred from the inside?_ Aislynn approached the door with a mild suspicion, worried if another person might be living within. She turned the knob and pushed, feeling the door scrape against the threshold. Aislynn heard a series of dull thumps and assumed a pile of books had been shoved behind the door to block it. Nudging the door again, it creaked open on rusting hinges, destroying any of Aislynn’s remaining hope of being below the radar, and broken light filtered into the dusty shop.

Bookshelves and desks were overturned with snapped legs, books were scattered over the floor with pages strewn about, and what she assumed had once been a large housecat lay in a far corner. The worst of the smell had faded, but the lingering scent of the feline’s rotting body still hung in the air. Aislynn covered her nose and crinkled her face in a grimace of pure disgust. The smell of rot had mixed with old paper and pollen, and was perhaps the most putrid smell to have ever been smelled.

“That’s _so_ gross.” Aislynn choked on the air.

Aislynn walked across the stinking room (which she now knew someone had lived here, but had vacated rather quickly), clambering over wrecked bookshelves and tables, and began to root through the store’s contents for any valuables. The shop not only offered books, but had little knick-knacks and trinkets, some art supplies, and some posters. The bookstore also had a small café, so Aislynn excitedly looked through the cabinets and back storeroom for any caffeinated treats. As she rummaged through the shelves and drawers, she found packets of sweetener, a sixteen-ounce container of powdered creamer, and a couple of those instant coffee packs. Squealing to herself in sheer delight, she had discovered two unopened and unharmed bags of Dunkin Donuts coffee grounds shoved behind a large box of straws. Hastily shoving them into her knapsack, Aislynn stood up and turned to the books and other paraphernalia with a smile of sheer pleasure.

_Yes! I can finally wake up to a nice cup of sweet, sweet coffee!_

She turned to the poster rack, finding they were all of music groups she didn’t care for and a few other random things. The shelves built into the walls had been cleared out, but Aislynn squatted down to pick through the mess of shattered coffee mugs and decorative figures that littered the floor. She found a small stone owl, probably a paperweight, and slipped it into her knapsack. The woman stood and felt the glassware crack under her feet as she walked to the mess of books in the main area.

Aislynn (while she isn’t necessarily a clean freak, but considers herself to be rather organized) couldn’t help but want to tidy up a bit, so she stacked the books in orderly piles against the back wall after she had sorted through them. Aislynn organized the books by their conditions: excellent, good, used, falling apart, and utterly illegible. The woman wasn’t searching for any particular novel, but was merely perusing her options. The woman was an avid reader and had, at a much younger age, always carried several books around with her. Aislynn found several books in surprisingly good condition, some a little frayed around the edges, and a few barely staying together. Of the books she found that were reasonably interesting and worth carrying home, she decided to take with her a decent copy of “ _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_ ”, a dusty and worn copy of “ _Les Miserables_ ”, and a fairly clean copy of the complete collection of “ _The Chronicles of Narnia_ ”. Aislynn smiled at her haul and carefully placed them in her knapsack. She rose to her feet to exit the bookstore and carefully marked its location on a large map of the city that she always carried with her. Using a purple crayon, she circled the junction of two streets where the shop was located and drew a small book next to the circle. She turned to gaze at the leftover books piled against the wall. A sadness welled up inside her, a sadness of not being able to carry _every_ book home.

“I’ll be back for you.” She promised with a stern look. It was time for her to move on anyways. Being out in the city was always dangerous. Not only was Ultron’s minions on the loose, but so were crazed people who thought the law had died with New York and were running around pointing a gun at anything that moved.

Aislynn reluctantly abandoned the remaining books as she closed the shop door behind her, but she knew to try and carry them all home was a silly idea and the novels would only slow her down. Turning back to the street from which she had come, the woman pulled her little handgun out from the waistband of her pants. It was a small revolver of a dull silver color. Aislynn had found it two months ago and had yet to use it. It only had four bullets, so she was hesitant to waste them. The woman carried it by her side as she cast serious gazes down each street before she crossed them, her ears trained on the distinctive sounds of stray gun fire or a sentry’s flight. The air was still and silent save for the few returning songbirds. She could her robins singing to one another from the tiny treetops that lined some of the wider streets.

“If only I was bird, I’d fly back to Ireland.” Aislynn whispered this with a sour look, longing for the freedom of flight.

The sweatshirt-clad scavenger ducked down an alleyway and stopped near a large eighteen-wheeler. Creeping underneath its sea-green trailer, Aislynn dipped into its massive shadow in an attempt to disappear from view. Sitting on a pile of rubble, she dug into her knapsack and pulled out one of her newest treasures. The smallest book, “ _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_ ” was a book she had yet to read. She’d seen all the movies and adaptations, but she’d never actually read the book. Flipping through its yellowed pages, she picked up on certain words and phrases within the novel. Aislynn loved the smell of the pages, along with the texture of the paper and the old ink print. It sent ripples down her spine and made her positively giddy with delight at the prospect of a new read. She couldn’t wait to get home, to get buried into her bed and wrapped in her cozy blankets, and to read the entire book in one sitting. Aislynn shivered with excitement. Closing the book back up and replacing it, the woman pulled out a plastic bag of mixed nuts. Wiping her hands on her undershirt to clean them as best she could, she began to snack as she listened to the goings-on in the empty city. The silence, which at first had been unnerving, was now the expected, and to hear anything else meant trouble. Constantly crossing streets, watching your back with nervous eyes, running and slipping through vehicle wreckages was hard work. Aislynn sighed deeply.

_It was time for a break._

The woman didn’t spend much of her time like this. After her strange, but rather exciting, encounter with Ultron three weeks before, she’d been much warier of the sentries, but overall more… well, not relaxed, but something along those lines. It made absolutely no sense. She looked for them, scouted as she usually did, but she didn’t feel as worried about them. Aislynn thought her mind was playing with her. Just because you were friendly, doesn’t mean Ultron won’t kill you if he gets the chance. The Irish woman knew that she was seeing them less frequently, but that only made her more suspicious as well as that… _odd_ feeling.

Ten minutes of blessed silence had passed while the woman rested in the shade of the big rig’s trailer. She had just begun to wonder about what her next big mission with the Corps might be when she heard the sharp humming of a sentry’s repulsors. She groaned and fell back onto the rubble, her aggravation apparent as her afternoon snack was so rudely interrupted.

“Can’t a woman enjoy a little rest anymore?” Aislynn groaned with a curse under her breath.

Gathering up her remaining snack, Aislynn crept to the edge of the shadow and looked up into the soft blue sky. There were a few fluffy clouds, but no sentries. She squinted into the rising sun.

“What the hell? I know I hear the damn things.” Again she scanned the skies and grimaced. The sound remained and then passed overhead to fade away, but still she did not spot them. Weird. Her eyes still planted on the sky, Aislynn didn’t notice the stranger making a silent approach.

“Are you looking for someone?” The smooth metallic voice erupted from beside Aislynn. The woman was effectively startled as she hit her head against the metal trailer, eliciting a sharp yelp, when she jumped. She ran a hand over the top of her head and hissed in pain. Again the voice spoke.

“That looked like it hurt.” _Nothing but sass_. Aislynn stood up from under the trailer and frowned at the silver and crimson mech before her. Her hazel eyes burned with indignation at having been so easily snuck up on.

“Oh, not you again! Are you fricking stalking me now?” She groaned, acting genuinely upset. Her hand still held her throbbing head. When the mech only crossed his arms over his chest and grinned, she sighed in exasperation and the bright fire in her eyes was left to cool.

“That hurts, Aislynn. And here I was thinking we were friends.” He smiled as he said the words, each one falling from his lips like they were nothing but the truth and not part of some game.

“Oh, so we’re friends are we?” Aislynn was trying not to smile. She couldn’t fall for his sly tricks like last time. She wouldn’t play into his game of lying eyes and silver tongues. _Not again._

“Of course.”

“Well, friends don’t scare friends like that.” Pulling her hand from her scalp, Aislynn checked for blood. She found none, but hissed under breath about a nasty bump and a headache.

Ultron walked up to her, his extreme height making Aislynn feel a little too small. He only stared at her, offering the confused woman no information on his intentions.

“Well, you shouldn’t be so easy to scare.” Ultron teased. He looked down on her, his eyes full of a childlike playfulness.

“What do you want this time?” Aislynn groaned, trying to sound rude, and not the nice kind of rude.

“Nothing, really. I just thought I’d drop by and say hello.” Ultron acted nonchalant, as if he hadn’t just scared the crap out of the agitated human. Aislynn couldn’t keep up the tough act. The corners of her lips were tugged into a small smile.

 _God! Why do I keep smiling?!_ Aislynn growled.

“Are sure you don’t have more pressing matters to attend to?” Aislynn quipped, trying to get the mech to go away. She noticed some debris stuck to her sweatshirt and began to wipe it off.

“No. I just like to wander around scaring young women.” Ultron still didn’t make eye contact, but the sarcasm in his voice left her imagination no room. She failed to hide her grin.

“Well, I have places to be, so go scare someone else. And don’t follow me!” She pushed her loose hair out of her face.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re extremely rude?” Ultron chided. The woman snorted as she leaned back under the trailer to grab her things.

“But of course, it’s all part of my womanly charm.” She flipped her hair over one of her shoulders as if she was posing for a glamour shot. Ultron only stared at her, his crimson eyes betraying no emotion. Aislynn walked past Ultron as she began heading home. The mech watched her go, only to turn and follow her.

Aislynn heard his metallic footfalls and froze. She turned and placed her hands on her hips. “I thought told you not to follow me.”

“You can’t really tell me what to do, Aislynn.” Ultron spoke with a smirk. “Besides, wouldn’t you like the company?”

“You’re so obnoxious, Ultron. Why are you even following me, anyways? You know where I live.” She shook her head when Ultron caught up to her. Aislynn turned to continue on her way, the mech following her from the right and slightly behind.

“That may be true, but like you said last night, it’s dangerous out here. I thought I might walk you home.” The teasing was never-ending! The woman was just glad she couldn’t see his smug face.

“You’re so sweet, my own hero.” Aislynn was smiling now and she couldn’t help it. She tossed him a sideways glance and saw that Ultron was grinning too.

“This is weird.” Aislynn commented with a laugh. Ultron looked at her, a confused expression on his face.

“What is?”

“This,” Aislynn waved her arm at him and then back to herself. “This way that we behave, it’s weird. I should be shooting at you, not smiling all the time like a kid in a candy store.”

“I agree. I should be shooting at you to, but I don’t want to. Any idea why?”

Aislynn hummed while she thought. They rounded a corner, approaching a large skyscraper on the left. “Are you lonely, Ultron? That might be why you’re talking and not shooting.”

“Lonely…” He turned the word over on his lips. He knew he was; he knew what loneliness was, what it felt like. It was the moment when Ultron had lost Wanda and Pietro’s trust, when he had lost their presence by his. He knew it again, much later, when he knew people feared him, when he realized he’d probably be alone for the rest of his existence with no one to talk to. _Lonely._

“I think so.” Ultron finally responded. “Are you?”

“Yes… and no. I have friends, but it’s not like they’re really dear to me. I’d hate to lose them, but I could live without them. I know it sounds harsh, but the world is a cruel place. It takes people from you without warning, so I think, at times, it’s better to be lonely.” Aislynn sounded like she spoke from experience.

“Do you want to be lonely?” _I don’t_ , Ultron answered quietly to himself.

“Not really.” Aislynn wanted to add, _we could be lonely together_ , but stopped herself. They walked a bit longer in an awkward silence. They passed two blocks like this, walking beside one another down littered streets, a twisted companionship.

They got to a particularly crowded intersection and Aislynn nimbly made it over and under the cars and trucks. Ultron merely flew over them, waiting on the other side for Aislynn to make it through. When she made to the edge of the cars, Aislynn passed through the bed of an old Ford truck. Stepping down onto a car’s hood, Ultron stood nearby, proffering a hand. Without a second thought, Aislynn took his hand as she almost slid off of the hood. His grip was firm but gentle. Ultron knew if he held to tightly, he would crack the bones in her hand. The heat between their hands was a new sensation for him, and he mourned the loss of it when Aislynn’s small hand slipped from his.

“Thanks.” She wiped off the pollen on her hands and cast a thankful smile Ultron’s way.

“Where are you from?” Ultron asked quickly as Aislynn began walking again.

“Hmm?” Aislynn hadn’t caught his question.

“That night, you said you weren’t from America. Where are you from?”

“Oh! I’m from Ireland. You couldn’t tell?”

“Not really. I knew it was European, but not specifically from where.” Ultron watched her walk as they traveled together. It was strange, like Aislynn had said earlier, that they acted so kindly to one another. Another break of silence, but not as long as the last.

“Ultron?” Aislynn called with a tinge of nervousness in her voice.

“Yes?” He wondered what she would ask him, what she would say. He would never know.

A single gunshot rang through the air, echoing over the desolate city.

Aislynn stiffened, her question died on her lips as she tried to locate the shot’s source. Ultron groaned and looked away (the interruption really ticked him off) as if he was focusing on something in the distance. In truth, he was contacting his sentries, dispatching them to source of the sound.

Several more shots ripped through the air, only to be followed by a barrage of bullets. It sounded like a war was going on not two blocks north of them. Aislynn’s eyes widened in fear, not for herself, but for the people who she knew lived on that street.

Aislynn dropped her knapsack and took off, running in the general direction of the warfare. Her small handgun was drawn and the safety off as she leapt over vehicle wreckages and piles of building debris. Her lungs burned with the amount of air coursing through them, and Aislynn’s heart pounded in her chest.

~~~

Ultron watched as the woman bolted in the general direction of the conflict, dropping her belongings and drawing a small handgun.

 _That’ll be useless._ Ultron knew she’d get herself hurt if she tried anything with that gun. He recognized the sounds of the automatic rifles firing back and forth with one another. His thoughts shifted to Aislynn, who had rushed towards the fight. _Why?_ It made so sense. She had no idea who was fighting, or what for.

_Or did she?_

Ultron took to flight and sped towards the fight. He’d just have to see for himself (and not to make sure that Aislynn didn’t get herself killed).

~~~

Aislynn ducked beneath the rubble, taking cover as she watched a small group of three men with rifles take shots at a ragtag group of scavengers. They had one among them with an automatic rifle, the others carrying pistols and shotguns. Not much of a surprise there. Aislynn immediately recognized the three men huddled in a shop’s display window. One among them was Charlie, the man who kept calling her a leprechaun. Despite her distaste for the man, she knew she had to help. Giving a loud whistle, one that sounded quite like a bird’s, she caught both Charlie’s and the ragtag group’s attention.

Charlie whistled back, acknowledging her presence. Aislynn crouched by the rubble as one of the armed men broke away from his group and approached Aislynn’s hiding spot. Hostility was seeping from the man as he raised his handgun. Aislynn grabbed a large hunk of cement and tossed it in his direction, which collided with a crunch against his left leg, right above his knee. The man screamed, dropped his defenses and his gun, and gripped his leg while he groaned with pain. Aislynn jumped from her cover and snatched the gun away from the man’s reach, but not before he managed to grab a length of her hair and pull her to the ground. Aislynn gasped as her back hit the ground, but she growled when she caught sight of the hand tangled in her hair.

She screamed in both anger and agony, as anyone whose getting their hair pulled would do, and tossed both guns a good distance away. It was the first thing her pain-filled mind could think of. The woman reached back and attempted to scratch the man’s eyes, but that only caused him to pull harder. Desperate to be free, she went limp. Aislynn could only hope her little ploy would work. When the man’s grip had lessened and he was chuckling to himself, she wrenched herself forward and away, rising quickly to her feet, Aislynn delivered him a strong kick in the face and heard a resounding crack. _My formative years of ballet and contemporary dance have finally paid off_ , she grinned. He lurched backwards and fell to the ground. Thinking rapidly, Aislynn straddled his chest and delivered two heavy punches to his head. She had no intent to kill the man, but she wasn’t about to let him kill her (which he probably would’ve done).

When his body went still beneath hers, she slid off and found that the surrounding gunfire had been silenced. She was breathing hard, and her skin felt like it was on fire.

“Lynn! Aislynn!”

“I’m over here!” Her voice cracked. She wondered if she’d killed the man when she looked over at his unmoving body. She felt slightly guilty, but not enough to regret her actions.

Charlie appeared from around a loose pile of cement, blood spattered on his dull gray shirt, and crouched over Aislynn.

“Are you alright? No broken bones? No gunshot wounds?” He seemed very worried, but Aislynn attempted to dismiss his panic with a wave of her hand. She could handle herself in a fight.

“I’m fine. I just want to go home.” She gritted through her teeth. Standing up and shaking away loose dirt and dust, she noticed how her left hand had two scrapes on the knuckles from where she had punched the man. She grimaced at the blood.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll walk you back, yeah?” Charlie moved to wrap his arm around her and offer her support, but she slipped away from him.

“I can walk home myself.” She didn’t mean to sound angry, but she was tired of Charlie’s consistent over-protectiveness. Picking up her own handgun and pocketing the stranger’s, she headed down the street towards her apartment and left Charlie to stand slack jawed behind her, his companions coming to stand by his side. Everyone in the Corps knew Charlie had some sort of feelings for Aislynn, but that they were one-sided. One of Charlie’s companions clapped him on the shoulder, telling him that he needed to give the girl some space.

~~~

After a good hour-long walk, Aislynn reached her apartment building and began to ascend the too many flights of stairs. By the time she reached her floor, she was ready to collapse in her bed. The woman went to her roof to check on her animals before she dropped off to sleep, found that all was well, and turned to head back. She froze.

Her knapsack was sitting behind the door and would have only been visible when one was reentering the building. She picked it up and took it inside, wondering how it had just showed up on her roof. Checking its contents, Aislynn found that all of her belongings were just as she had left them.

She smiled when she noticed that her notepad had a little note scrawled on it in very neat handwriting.

“ _You forgot this. – U._ ”

 

 


	8. Our Secret Talks

The small Polish chicken, a dark black shot through with browns, was scratching at the dead leaves and mulch that covered the coop’s floor in search of food. Its sister, a pale cream colored hen, was pecking at corn kernels scavenged from a local theatre. The five other chickens, a Bantam Silkie rooster and hen, a black Silkie hen, a Bare-neck hen, and an Americana hen, were nesting in old buckets hammered to the wall. Their owner sat outside the door, watching her precious animals. The biggest rooster (named Raisin because his purplish comb resembled a raisin) turned and crowed at her as he sauntered out of his nest. Aislynn frowned at her rooster.

“Don’t talk to me in that tone of voice!” She lovingly scolded the chicken, scooping him up in her arms. She walked out across her roof to admire the view of the bright orange sun rising over the city line. _Summer will be here soon_ , Aislynn thought with a smile. The chicken, Raisin, clucked in her arms as his head bobbed this way and that.

“Good morning, Aislynn.” A metallic voice called from behind her. It was unusually cheerful for the person it was coming from.

Aislynn jumped in surprise, the chicken nearly leaping from her arms off the nearby ledge from the sudden movement. Gasping in fear, Aislynn clutched the amber bird even closer to her chest, cooing softly to the animal to calm it down.

“Ultron! Stop doing that!” She glared at the mech, her hazel eyes burning with fury at the near loss of her precious rooster.

The silver mech stared at her with a grin on his face, as he was clearly amused by the woman’s startled reaction. He came from around the coop’s edge and stood closer to her, watching the little creature in the human’s arms. He made a soft grunt and then rose to look at Aislynn. She noticed how his crimson eyes weren’t harsh or cold as they had been when they had first met, but shone like fire, living and warm. Each time they met, each time they spoke, they got a bit warmer, a bit… _kinder._ Aislynn knew she had witnessed a progressive change in him, but was it a change for the better?

“Stop doing what? All I did was tell you ‘good morning’.” He acted offended and rather hurt at the woman’s words, playing off a vague innocence. The fire in his eyes flickered, trembling with newness and vigor.

“Scaring me! I nearly threw my chicken off the roof because of you!” Aislynn was actually upset as far as Ultron could tell, so he didn’t say anything and just opted to roll his eyes. Aislynn turned and placed the rooster back in the coop and shut it behind the bird. She sighed and turned to face him.

“I’m not getting away from you anytime soon, am I?” Aislynn crossed her arms.

“Nope.” Aislynn groaned in despair, exaggerating her disappointment. She loved the coy look on Ultron’s face as they played their usual snarky game.

“You act like you don’t enjoy talking to me. We both know we get along fantastically. Otherwise you wouldn’t be letting me walk you home all the time.” His silver features were smug while his crimson eyes gleamed, the fire a near blaze now. Aislynn’s mind squirmed in the search for a name for her current emotion, but the closest she could get was... upset and… resigned. That was a pitiful stand-in for the strange yet comfortable warmth and the reluctant giddiness that was quickly spreading throughout her body. She knew quite well that she enjoyed their little talks when Ultron would accompany her home from a day of scavenging or her watch-nights. It also eased her stress, as she didn’t need to be on the lookout all the time. Who would dare to attack her if she was walking side by side with Ultron?

Looking back the mech, Aislynn knew what he had said was true, but she didn’t want it to be (which is a lie, like the ones you tell yourself when you know something is true but don’t want it to be because it goes against your conscience, but you love it anyways). Ultron stepped closer to the woman and smiled.

“Okay, so we get along.” Aislynn’s hands were on her hips now as she glared with contempt at his (what she wished but also didn’t wish was incorrect) statement. _God, she was confused_.

Ultron towered over her as he smiled with look of ‘I know you like me, so there’s no point in denying it’. Aislynn surrendered under his stare, her already cracked façade of indifference shattering completely. Whatever ice was left in her, Ultron had successfully melted. Ultron only laughed as he watched the hollow ferocity fade from her eyes. Despite his genocidal tendencies, he was glad to have someone to talk to again. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead into his chest, the signature movement of her resignation to his awkward truths. Aislynn found that his metallic skin was smooth, oddly warm, and did not at all feel like what she thought it would.

“We’re friends, aren’t we, Aislynn?” His voice was practically a purr at this point as he glanced down at the surrendered woman. She felt his voice through her skin, felt it shake her bones. It made a shiver ripple over her skin and a tingle rise in her spine. Aislynn wanted to hit him in his smug face. _Dumb bastard_. The woman could feel the heat burning in her cheeks as she blushed at her own behavior.

“We’re friends,” She sighed and met his eyes, the heat in her face continuing to rise until it felt like her blood was boiling with embarrassment, “but I use that term _loosely_.”

\--Two Weeks Later--

Aislynn was wearing ripped up skinny jeans and a purple V-neck shirt with an obnoxiously bright pink jacket. Pushing the heavy glass doors of her home open, she scanned outside. She saw the silver form of Ultron standing by the edge of the street; he was waiting on her. For the past several weeks or so Ultron had offered to walk with her while she scavenged; he was no longer just accompanying her home. He said it would give them the much needed time together as “friends”, as well as protection from any human threats. Aislynn had pretended to be annoyed with him, but had readily accepted. Ultron’s eyes had gleamed with a renewed vitality.

As Aislynn approached him, she saw his crimson eyes narrow, the way they always did when he was thinking. When she was about ten feet from his side, rifle in hand, Ultron had asked with a look of plain curiosity, _“Do you have any clothes without holes in them?”_

Aislynn threw a rock at him.

Ultron laughed at her aggressive response. Aislynn walked by him with a sour look, and he quickly followed her. They took on a slow pace; the woman wanted to enjoy the warm breeze that had kicked up. In the two months that Aislynn and Ultron had known each other, their affection for the game of sass they played had not diminished. They talked like old friends, their banter quick and sharp like daggers. Now they walked side-by-side, only about a foot apart from the other, as they meandered through the fallen city. Aislynn had to admit that she looked forward to the days when she would spend time with the mech. It would be the highlight of her day. Ultron could very easily say the same thing; he was glad to have someone to talk to again. He would ask her questions about her past, about her family, about the world, about anything really. Aislynn told him that he acted like seven-year-old, always asking questions.

As they walked down the streets, Ultron always kept an eye out for Aislynn’s wellbeing. Today was no different. His crimson eyes were glued to the woman by his side; he watched as she hummed to herself, watched as her sharp eyes scanned the ground and the surrounding area for anything of value. Aislynn caught him staring more often than he thought, but she’d never say anything to him about it.

“Hey, Ultron?” She asked with a cheeky grin, her eyes burning with a foreign intensity. Ultron didn’t verbally respond, but he met her eyes with his soft smile.

“Would you have killed me the first night we met, if I hadn’t put down my rifle?” Aislynn was watching his features for any giveaways or reaction, but didn’t get anything big. His eyes flickered, but not much else.

“No.” Ultron lied to her. He would’ve shot her, killed her, if she had refused to lower her weapon. He didn’t want her to know that; she was already throwing herself into danger every time she walked with him. If she knew _he_ might kill her, or hurt her (which Ultron swore he’d try his hardest not to do), he might lose her friendship, however thin their bond may be as it is. When he looked at her, he saw her trust. It may not be a lot, or even real trust, but Ultron would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate her companionship. He didn’t want to lose it, even if it was built on a twisted foundation of friendship.

 _That’s pitiful, Ultron._ Once again that nagging voice made its unwelcome appearance. _What has happened to you?_

Aislynn smiled at his answer. “You’re lying, aren’t you?” She called his bluff, caught his lie. Ultron didn’t say anything, but he met her eyes and saw the confidence in them, even now she had figured he would have very well killed her. So why did she still smile at him?

“You lied to save face. Did you really think I’d be so petty as to hate you for something like that? I would’ve shot you, too.” Aislynn nudged him with her shoulder, leaning against him while they walked. “If I were doing that, I’d probably never talk to you. I’d still be pissed about Sokovia.”

She regretted the last word as soon as it spilled past her lips. Ultron tensed by her side and his dark glare returned, the memory of his actions in the now ruined country flooding his mind. He felt Aislynn remove herself from his contact and he didn’t stop her; anger and grief consumed him.

“I feel regret for what I did in Sokovia, Aislynn. I realize that I should and I understand why I must. And you know what I did, how many innocents I killed,” His voice sounded choked by a powerful emotion; his once graceful movements tense and unyielding. “Yet here you are, standing next to me. Why?” Confusion swarmed in his crimson eyes, and a new sound was carried through his voice. It sounded like pain, and maybe a little bit like a desperate plea, but it was angry too. Aislynn twisted around to stand before him. Her eyes burned like great green coals streaked with glowing amber-gold, blazing with a fierce passion, yet her voice was soft and gentle and carried the tones of calm control.

“Ultron… it’s good that you regret what you did. It means that you can learn from it, that you can grow, and that you can try to fix the damage you’ve done, no matter how difficult it might be, no matter how long it might take.” Aislynn stepped closer to him, fixing him in her fiery gaze. “I stand beside you _because_ I know what you did. That’s what friends do, Ultron. They stick together, come hell or high water.”

“Even if the friend attempts to destroy all of humanity?” Ultron felt comforted by her words, but some awkward sensation began to nag at his chest. It felt tight; he felt warmer than usual. His eyes focused on Aislynn as she began walking down the street in search of her insignificant treasures.

“Especially then.” Aislynn casted him a long smile, reaching backwards to grab his hand and pull him forward. “Now stop moping about the past, live in the now, and dream for the future.”

\--Two Months Later--

A hot breeze was blowing up from the south, warming the already blistering city of New York. Summer was now in full swing and the city appeared much healthier with a little green to it. Central Park had grown back to its most extravagant, wild beauty since no one was there to tidy up. It had truly become a forest, swaddled in thick undergrowth and lush trees. The sidewalks were consumed, the benches and tables overgrown, and the pools of water hidden by verdant gates. Animals had flooded back to New York. Pigeons seemed to rule the skies as their masses had grown exponentially. Of course the predators followed the prey, so hawks and such had flown in as well. In the forests below, deer had taken over. It was another source of food for New York’s people and venison quickly became a staple.

The people were enjoying the hot weather also. Many more people dared to venture outside their crippled shelters to relish what they could of the brightening sun. A large majority of the people would say that the city became more lively in the summer, more beautiful. In the buildings that had survived, windowsills with potted plants would bloom and color the pale grays and browns of the rotting city. Some of the citizens even cultivated plants, helping flowers to grow and then planting them anywhere within the city streets. People were desperate to help their city in any way possible. Sometimes it was with flowers, sometimes it was with guns.

~~~

“Why all of the flowers, Aislynn?” Ultron asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. He understood that humans could obtain food from certain plants, but flowers? They served only to be looked at. Why would any human waste their time on them?

“I think their pretty. And how many times do I have to tell you? It’s Lynn.” She shook her head at his forgetfulness. _You think he’d remember these things!_ Aislynn thought with surprise.

She was carefully trimming the dying leaves off of her flowers, all of which were settled on the hooks that hung from the railing of her balcony. She turned to look at the silver mech who was leaning against her doorframe. Ultron had been coming to her home, walking her home, and keeping her company on scavenging trips for over three months now. Aislynn wasn’t truly sure why he had kept coming back, maybe because he really thought they were friends (she was sure they were by now) like he’d said a while back, or because he really had nothing better to do (according to Ultron, Aislynn was his only source of entertainment nowadays). Whatever the reason, Aislynn was (and she no longer hated admitting it to herself, but still kept her new robot friend a secret from everyone else) grateful for the mech’s company. She’d actually grown attached to Ultron. You could say she saw him as the annoying kid down the street, the only one your mom lets you play with, the one you want to hate, but just can’t. _That’s Ultron_. You _want_ to hate him, but you just can’t (especially when you get to know him).

In the process of a few short weeks, they had gone from “ _friends_ ” to “ _I just walk into your house when I feel like it because you’d probably just let me in anyways_ ”.

“But they don’t serve any purpose.” Ultron stated with blatant confusion as he approached the woman. He stood close behind her (in the time that he’d been coming to visit Aislynn, she had quickly discovered he had no regards for personal space). He barely had to lean over her shoulder to see the specific flower, a bright red tulip, that she was currently working on.

“They don’t have to. They make me happy. That’s all.” She clipped off a few dead leaves, the ones that received no sunlight or just didn’t grow, and added them to her growing pile of trimmings. Aislynn glanced at him through the corner of her eye and saw that he was still discontent (she’d gotten pretty good at reading Ultron’s emotions).

“Just accept them for what they are and they’ll make you happy too.” She added with a smile.

“That makes absolutely no sense, Lynn.” He crossed his arms, huffing in displeasure.

“Think about it like this, Ultron. If you didn’t like me, would you keep coming back?” She casted him a sly glance. The silver mech would have to admit to liking her or not in his response. She’d effectively trapped him.

“That’s not the same. You’re a person.” Another huff.

“So? I don’t think I’m all that useful to you, so why do you keep visiting me? Aren’t I a waste of your time then?” She stopped what she was doing and turned to gaze up at him. They were barely a foot apart, but with Ultron’s height she only reached him mid-chest.

“You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, huh?” Her accent made Ultron’s spinal nerve shiver.

“I understand what you’re saying now.” He moved away from Aislynn, but he was halted when she jumped in front of him.

“You didn’t answer my question.” The woman had a childish grin on her face and her hands were on her hips. Ultron sighed and rolled his eyes, but turned to face the woman directly. He leaned into her face.

“You make me happy, so you don’t need to have a use.” Ultron’s voice had taken on an odd sound, like he was saying something he didn’t want to. The kind of sound when you say something that’s true, but don’t want anyone to know it, especially the person you’re saying it to. Aislynn gave a soft laugh and smiled at Ultron.

“See? It’s the same way with the flowers, and with you, and with lots of other things. You put time into the things that make you happy, even if they don’t have any practical use.” Aislynn turned back to her flowers and left Ultron to think on her words.

Ultron stood leaning in the doorway watching as the woman finished her work. The silence was broken only by the sounds of passing birds or the occasional clucking of the chickens on the roof. The odd pair passed their time like this nearly every day, unless Aislynn had to work or Ultron had something truly pressing to deal with (which wasn’t very often, as the Avengers still hadn’t tried anything stupid).

His crimson eyes followed Aislynn’s every movement, from how she analyzed her plants with a serious posture, how she carefully trimmed said plant, and then refocused on another area after she’d tossed away the bad leaves. With the summer’s heat, Aislynn had chosen to wear the most minimal amount of clothing possible. Ultron had made no demeaning comments (mostly because he didn’t care) due to his having gained visual access to parts of her he didn’t before. Yes, as the heat had increased the woman’s clothing had proportionately shrunk, but not as drastically as this. The Irish woman’s pale blue tank-top was hiked up over her waist, showing off her lower back, and her _very short_ jean shorts revealed quite a bit. Besides her unusually fair skin, he could now see more of the porcelain skin that had been marred by several small scrapes and bruises, a few burns, and the odd bullet graze on her upper left thigh. What surprised him most was the massive scar that ripped diagonally down her back from her left shoulder to her right hip. It was thin and jagged with smaller scars off to each side of the largest one. The skin was raised and was a pastel pinkish color. They were much like stripes in a way.

What Ultron _had_ failed to notice was Aislynn catching glimpses of the staring mech from the corner of her eye. Ultron wondered with a small internal debate if it would be impolite to ask Aislynn about her scars since he had no true understanding of a human’s etiquette towards addressing bodily mutilations. It was a sensitive topic, right? Ultron had continued staring at her body for over an hour and as he opened his mouth to ask about her scars, Aislynn turned to catch his eyes.

“I was seventeen.” Aislynn said, an awkward smile played on her features and a tone of forced calmness swept into her voice. She had put down her tools and shaken the dirt off her hands. The woman turned to Ultron and propped herself against the balcony’s white railing, leaning back. Her usual warm gaze turned hard and cold as glass when the memory played behind them. The mech would have been lying if he said he hadn’t felt a rush of concern, his chest tightening with the presence of an unknown emotion.

“I went out with my friends one night. We were just walking through a little street with some neat shops and a couple of bars.” Her eyes were distant and cold, both fear and the desire to hide said fear washing through them. Ultron moved from his leaning posture, but he didn’t approach her. He was unsure of what to do, how she would respond.

“Just as we were passing by this one bar with a couple of guys, we stopped to wave down a passing taxi. That one didn’t stop for us, so we kept trying to wave another down.” She was playing with her hands now, a habit that reflected her nervousness. Ultron felt the rush again, but remained still. He watched her take a deep breath and groan; an awkward and rather forced laugh escaped her lungs.

“One of the guys got a little too grabby with one of my friends, so I pushed him. He got upset and nailed me in the back with a beer bottle. It shattered on my shoulder and then tore open my back. It hurt like hell.” She laughed when she said it had hurt, but her eyes were still glazed with the pain. Ultron stepped closer to her (he had fully acknowledged his concern for the woman at this point and decided to try and console her, if that’s what the situation required). His eyes met her bloodshot ones and she wiped away a tear. Aislynn felt silly for getting all teary-eyed, but at the same time, a little catharsis never hurt anyone, right? She would have said something to Ultron, to wave off his obvious concern, but her throat ached; it felt tight and constricted, a sign of the tears to come.

Aislynn’s voice was cracking and full of remorse (but for what she didn’t know). “I was in the hospital for God knows how long, and that asshole didn’t even get a guilty verdict. No jail time, no stain on the record, nothing.” Aislynn quietly broke on the inside. “My lawyer had told me not to pursue. I was told that it wasn’t worth the fuss because the guy was a role model, because he was important to the community. I wouldn’t have won the suit.” She was seething with quiet hate, the kind when you hate how something happened, not because it was wrong, but because it was wrong and everyone thought it was normal. Aislynn shook her head and choked back a soft sob. Ultron leaned closer to her, not really knowing what to do, but it didn’t take long for Aislynn to lean against him, gratefully using him for support. She sighed when she heard the soft inner-workings of Ultron’s body. Aislynn could’ve sworn she’d heard a heartbeat. Ultron wasn’t shocked to feel the woman press her body against his. He knew that humans often sought comfort in the physical presence of a close friend or loved one. What shocked him was that Aislynn had sought _him_ for comfort. (Yes, it sounds contradictory, but it makes sense if you think about it).

“I’m sorry. This is probably really weird for you.” Aislynn laughed between tears, her face pressed into his chest. She tried to move off of him, but found herself held fast to the mech. Aislynn could feel his arms around her, one of his hands on her shoulder, the other on her back. She looked up and saw him staring at her with an emotion she’d yet to see on his face before. (She won’t tell anyone, but her heart skipped a beat just then). His arms kept her body flush against his and she had absolutely no wiggle room. “Ultron?”

The mech moved his arms from around her and moved a few inches back, but kept his hands on her bare shoulders. Aislynn could feel the heat on his fingers as her skin suddenly felt cold, and she wished he was holding her again.

“I thought you could use a hug.” His voice again carried a hesitant, awkward tone and Aislynn knew why (mostly because he tried to wipe out humanity not a couple years before and yet here he was, hugging one. It had to be _really_ bizarre). Aislynn gave a light-hearted laugh and threw her arms around the mech.

“You’re a real sweetheart, you know that?” She pressed her face into his chest, welcoming the foreign warmth of his metallic skin. She could feel his voice in her bones as he spoke with a playful grin.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

“I promise.”

 

 


	9. Alone Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WOO BOI MY DEAREST READERS
> 
> IM ALIVE, BTW
> 
> ALSO THIS IS THE REAL CHAPTER 9, I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED 10 IN ITS PLACE PLEASE FORGIVE ME.
> 
> IM EDITING CHAPTER 10 WITH BONUS CONTENT TO APPEASE YOU 
> 
> LOVE YOU GUYS

The night sky was as cloudless and clear as a crisp autumn night could get. Not a single cloud blocked out the bright, shining rays of moonlight. Stars of every size and color seemed to dance upon the black stage, gleefully twinkling as all stars should when the sun was down. The late-night air was warm with a low, wet breeze sneaking up from the south, as if summer had only moved south and had not transitioned to fall, and carried with it the soft sounds of nature. Perched upon a high metal railing, a lone owl hooted and sang into the sky, its hollow tones echoing over a dark and dead landscape silhouetted by moonlight and dust. Most of the city (that which had survived the initial takeover or had decided to stay despite the massive, uninhibited exodus) was now sleeping in subway stations and hidden encampments. The hardy citizens, largely with military, police, or gang relations, had long since adapted to the dreary lifestyle of living under the mechanical reign of a genocidal AI.

Speaking of the genocidal AI…

“Favorite color?” Ultron asked, his tone one of genuine curiosity. In the silence, his internal workings made a low humming noise that carried over and faded into the warming, wet night air. He was slightly intrigued by how quickly weather could change; it had been a perfectly cool, dry day, but as the sun had set and the darkness crept into the sky, it had warmed by several degrees and the air became heavy with moisture. _Quite odd, really._ Ultron thought. _You’d think it’d be the other way around, at least temperature wise._

“Umm… black,” Aislynn chirped. Ultron gave her quizzical look, mostly because she hardly ever wore the color, and because it didn’t seem to fit her bright personality. The woman caught his eyes and quickly uttered a reason; it was the first one to come to her mind.

“It’s because it’s the presence of every color, you know,” Aislynn hummed as she leaned against the metal body next to her. He gave her another look and she sighed. “If rainbow was technically a color, maybe I’d pick that instead.”

Ultron rolled his eyes at her childish mind, however open and creative it may be, and wondered if that was what enabled her to be so _kind_ to him, to show him as much affection as she did (which was a startling amount, really, considering that she’d only really _known_ him for about six months, but he wasn’t about to complain). These past few months spent in Aislynn’s company had only proven how close she’d gotten to him, despite his previous dislike for her kind, for humanity. She was something of an oasis of kindness in a desert of cruelty and hate, and he relished in her presence. Even if it were just to ask silly questions and sit quietly by her side while she watched the streets below for trouble, or to walk with her while she scavenged, Ultron basked in her glow of generosity and tolerance, soaking up every soft smile and gentle word she tossed his way. The silver mech knew he had gotten _attached_ , so to speak, and he didn’t want to lose Aislynn’s affection, or her smiles, or the sounds of her laughter when he made some sarcastic quip. He wondered if the woman had similar thoughts about him; he felt something stir in the back of his mind and rumble in his chest at the idea of her returning his fondness for her.

“What about you? Do you have a favorite color?” Aislynn asked as she peeked through her binoculars; they were the fancy (and extremely heavy) military-grade kind of binoculars that would’ve cost her a fortune had she not scavenged them from a rundown surplus store. She hadn’t noticed the mech’s eyes linger on her a little longer than they usually did, or how his grip on her waist had gotten slightly more firm.

“Blue.” Ultron answered, his eyes traveling over the wild, golden-brown mass of Aislynn’s hair. In truth, he wasn’t sure if blue was really his favorite color, or if he even had one. Maybe he should’ve said green, for her eyes; he huffed softly to himself. It was too late to change it anyways and blue wasn’t such a bad choice, either. As often as the mech watched the sky change colors on a regular basis, however, one would think that the various tones of sky blue would most definitely be among his favorites. Aislynn hummed lightly in her chest at his response, the tune low and bouncy.

 _She’s always humming some song_ … Ultron smiled with a pleased puff of air.

“Because of the sky? Or the ocean, maybe?” She asked. Her eyes turned back to him for a split second; they were a burning hazel of bright green and warm brown. Earthy colors.

“The sky, mostly.” Ultron answered slowly, his own crimson optics scanning Aislynn’s sharp, feminine features. For once, he didn’t see the definition of a plain human woman before him, but of _Aislynn_. She was intelligent, beautiful, and the closest thing he’d ever had to a true friend, and the fact that she was human seemed to fade into nothingness. It no longer played any component in how he felt about her which, as time passed, turned more and more into a deep longing for companionship.

“The sky changes colors… a lot,” Aislynn commented. “That’s why you like it so much.”

“What?” Ultron cast a curious gaze to the woman. She grinned at him in her overly fond, attentive sort of way.

“You’re always staring at the sky.” She explained. “At first I thought you were keeping an eye out for trouble, but that’s not the case.”

Ultron tilted his head. _What’s she getting at?_

“You like to watch the sky change from blue, to purple and pink, to orange and red and yellow, and then to black. You like to see it change.”

“I do, but why would that make me like it so much?” Perhaps he already knew the answer; it was a lovely display of color within the natural world, something unpredictable and untouched. Each day had its own sky, unique in color and cloud coverage.

“Because it’s a visible _change._ It’s like progress, or evolution. You like to _see_ change.” Aislynn surmised with a soft smile. “Now that autumn is here, you’ll get to see the trees change, too.”

Ultron had never thought of it like that. While it was true he enjoyed seeing it change, he hadn’t viewed it as a connection to his desire to see the world evolve, to see things… _change._

 _She pays attention,_ Ultron noted with a hint of fondness, perhaps in the fact that she did truly care enough to listen and learn about him. _How could she know that, when I didn’t know that myself?_

The woman shifted slightly, hefting the dark binoculars over her hazel eyes, looking through them and searching the distant midnight skies for anything odd or out of place (she wasn’t quite sure what defined odd anymore, nor what she’d do if she saw it). With a huff of bemused laughter, she realized that if anyone spotted her and the silver mech through a pair of night-time specs, she was sure they’d think _that_ was rather odd and _extremely_ out of place.

“So, Ultron?” She caught his attention again, her tone light. “What’s your favorite animal?”

“Animal?” He echoed absentmindedly. He looked over the cityscape, turning over the zoological records he had accessed in response to the question. It only took a matter of seconds for him to come to a consensus. “ _Vulpes Vulpes_ , the Red Fox.”

Aislynn smiled. “It suits you.”

She turned her head, still searching the skies. Ultron could hear the different dials and gears being toyed with on the binoculars, and he had the sudden realization that she wasn’t really _looking_ for anything. She was playing with the binoculars. He shook his head and huffed in amusement.

“How so?” He was interested in what particular piece of insight she’d have for him now.

“The red fox is mainly associated with cunning and trickery, much like you are.” Aislynn stated plainly, her fingers turning the various dials on the binoculars. “However, the Celts believed the fox to be wise. It was often thought to be a very intelligent spirit.”

She smiled at him. “You are both clever and intelligent.” Ultron sat back, contented by this explanation.

“How about your favorite animal?” The mech asked as his eyes fell to what he could see of her face. The woman cast him a sideways glance from behind the binoculars and smirked. The mech’s questions had been ceaseless since he had offered to stay up with her, but Aislynn didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, she preferred having him talk to her rather than have him brooding in the corner. Later, she’d get to ask him the same ones if she didn’t get the chance to now. It’d be fun to compare the differences in personal favorites (at least to her, since it would give her some insight into the silver mech’s tragic psyche).

“That’s a hard one!” She put down her binoculars with a subdued sigh of relief, as her upper arms burned a little, and looked over to the large mech sitting next to her. Again, he hid any sign of emotion (which he was getting much better at) and had his head cocked slightly to the side as he watched her, waiting for her to answer. When a few seconds had passed quietly, the mech asked again. Aislynn groaned and leaned against his side, her head resting on his shoulder as she put on her thinking face. Ultron smirked at the woman’s eccentricity and decidedly obvious lack of regard for personal space (not that it bothered him or anything).

“I like birds… and snakes.” The woman spoke with finality (her decision-making skills weren’t very good for stuff like this). Crossing her arms, she positioned herself in a more comfortable spot as she lay propped against Ultron’s side. Even if the air was warm, she still enjoyed the warmth that radiated off Ultron; she laid against him with a pleased sigh.

“That’s not what I asked, Lynn. Favorite animal, not _animals_.” Ultron chided her. Aislynn rolled her eyes and shivered slightly. The wind had picked up and at this height, it didn’t matter what season it was or what temperature the air was, it was rather chilly. The breeze raised goosebumps on Aislynn’s exposed skin and she shivered. _It’s a good thing he’s so warm. My own personal heater,_ the woman thought fondly.

“It’s so hard to pick just one, though.” The young woman shuffled her feet on the pile of blankets the pair were sitting on. Her ruffled Nike shorts and loose, largely oversized shirt revealed that her intentions to sleep had been cast aside as she had begun her nightly watch-duties, topped with a quick game of twenty-questions with a homicidal machine. Regardless, she reached for the edge of a blanket and pulled it over the side of her body that wasn’t pressed against the AI. The mech felt her push her body even closer to his and he offered no resistance. The foreign sensation of her skin pressed against his was something he had come to enjoy; knowing she enjoyed it just as much was enough to make him smile to himself.

Ultron, from his spot next to the woman, felt the warmth from her body seep into his own as her body rested against his. With the extra cover from the blanket, the woman was even warmer than usual. The mech stifled a low chuckle as she pressed against him. It was endlessly amusing to him to see how easily and how comfortable Aislynn was when it came to the nearly constant physical contact between the two of them when they were together. At first, Aislynn had shied away from touching him, not because she didn’t want to (which in truth she was rather keen on physical displays of affection), but because she thought he’d be less than pleased about it and that it was simply too foreign to the mechanical being. Ultron, despite his initial grumbles of feigned annoyance, developed a sort of physical dependency for Aislynn’s touch. He thrived on her gentle nudges, her occasional hugs, her hand grasping his own, the sensation of her body pressed against his. The sheer amount of trust and kindness that passed between each instance of contact gave him a little thrill, a little kick. The fact that someone, another living, thinking being, trusted him in such a way was, in its own little way, an amazing thing.

“Just pick the first animal that comes to mind,” Ultron attempted to aid her choice, prodding her for an answer. Aislynn turned her body to face him, her face resting on the juncture of his arm and chest while she wrapped her arm around his. Her arms were coiled around his own as she rested on him. She sighed softly and blinked slowly; she could feel sleep creeping into the edges of her consciousness.

“A dragon.” Her voice sounded tired, but there was something else in there; perhaps it was her childhood awe of the fantastical beast she had just named, or the reverence she had placed upon it herself. The mech, not knowing the woman’s own adoration for the creature of myth, thought her voice merely tired. He knew well enough that he disrupted her sleeping patterns when he visited overnight, so he only did it for an hour or so, insisting that she get a decent night’s rest (the woman had gotten upset about this, but went along after his constant harping). Aislynn silently enjoyed the mech fussing over her, because she knew it meant that he cared about her enough to fuss in the first place.

“Dragons aren’t real. Pick something _real_.” He scoffed and rolled his glowing red optics once more (probably the fifth time this night). Aislynn sat up quickly, the blanket forgotten, and pressed her balled up hands to her waist with a frown.

“And how do you know they aren’t real?” Her voice was fierce, her eyes sparkling with her precious dragon’s fire. She was teasing him, but he could tell there was some sort of long-buried defensiveness behind it.

“They aren’t. If they were, don’t you think we would’ve found them by now? Be realistic, Lynn.”

The woman scoffed at the _‘be realistic’_ part, waving her hand in disregard of the comment. She had always been a huge fan of the cryptid myths around the world, each unique yet somehow interwoven with thousands of others just like it. They had always interested her. Dragons, including things like the Wyvern, the Asiatic Lungs, Basilisks, and Sea Serpents, were among her favorites. For someone to just blatantly state that they didn’t exist was a bit annoying to her (those people don’t usually have any kind of imagination, either). With a smirk, she started to defend the dragons’ legends with her most effective rhetoric.

“Well, perhaps dragons are so clever that they’ve hidden themselves away from prying eyes,” Aislynn’s tone was playful and kind, the glint in her eyes a bright spark. “They probably don’t want to be found by us, seeing as how we already fear them.”

Aislynn, having been raised on Celtic and other European lore, was a firm believer in magic. Regardless of her upbringing, she’d always wanted to be alive in a world of magic and majesty and mythical beasts; it was a world she’d dreamed of as a child and longed, even as an adult, to be a part of. It would stand to reason that books like _Eragon_ and _The Lord of the Rings_ would be some of her favorites.

“No. We would’ve noticed giant fire-breathing reptiles flying around by now. _They aren’t real_.” Ultron was surprised by the woman’s defense of such a childish notion, the idea of dragons, and how fiercely she seemed to want to believe in them. _It’s unlike her_ , he thought, _she always seems so rational, if not emotional._

“Prove it,” Aislynn was facing him now; she was sitting with her legs folded crisscross and her arms across her chest. Her features challenged the mech as she pressed her index finger into his chest. “If they aren’t real, _prove it_.”

“I can’t. But it is highly unlikely that they exist.” Ultron sighed, rolling his optics. He knew Lynn would be impossible to live with now, knowing she had just won this little bout. Shaking his head, he could feel the woman’s smile broaden without even looking at her.

“Ha!” She grinned, leaning back onto Ultron’s body. “That means there’s a chance! Until you can bring me _irrefutable proof_ that dragons aren’t real, I will continue to believe in them.” Her tone softened and she sighed.

“Why bother? You’ll never see one,” He murmured flatly, “why waste your time on a child’s dream?”

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it,” Aislynn spoke softly, her voice buried in Ultron’s body. The mech shifted his eyes and looked down at the woman.

“A quote from Roald Dahl,” Ultron stated plainly, as if it had no effect on him. “He’s quite the noted author, isn’t he?”

“You should read some of his works, Ultron. You might learn something,” Aislynn suggested with a lighthearted smirk. Despite the mech’s callous tone, she knew he was a curious soul and would most likely be open to reading some of her books (especially the ones with magic).

“I might.”

Aislynn’s body slumped tiredly against his, her eyes drooping as she looked up at him with a fond, friendly gaze. She could feel a warm, fuzzy sensation tighten in her chest as her eyes wandered his features. She liked him. It was a genuine, unique feeling, to like someone. While she was unsure of the magnitude of the feeling, she was sure it would encompass physical affection. She enjoyed the contact between them, especially when they were like this. Alone on a rooftop with no sharp eyes to spy them from broken buildings and overturned cars, to ruin something as pleasant a friendship like this one. Aislynn buried her face in the crook of Ultron’s neck, her arms pressed in-between their bodies. The mech shifted her body over his so that she was draped over him, instead of hanging half on-half off (this was purely for her own comfort and had nothing to do with his own preferences).

She smiled into his neck as she felt his arms wrap around her. Aislynn listened to sounds of his body as electricity passed through wires and gears turned, as the hum of warmth radiated from his metallic skin. It was rhythmic and relaxing, and was when Aislynn felt most at peace.

“I can hear your heart.” She whispered; she could hear the faint, timed beat of dull thumps, much like a human heart, yet slightly more resonant and deep. She could hear Ultron’s voice reverberate through his body as his spoke back to her; it sent tingles down her spine.

“I don’t have a heart, Lynn. You’re probably hearing one of my main fuel pumps.” His tone was soft, as if he didn’t want to mitigate the idea of having a heart, but felt that he had to. He felt Aislynn’s hand shift over his chest, as she did absentmindedly or when thinking heavily, and begin to trace the curves in the different plates of metal and the paths of crimson light.

“You have a heart, Ultron,” The woman’s voice was incredibly gentle as she continued, “How else could you grow so fond of a world that fears you?”

There was a moment of silence between the two of them; one feared to speak for the feeling they had said too much, the other, for not having said enough. Perhaps that could be fixed.

“I’ve not so much grown fond of the world, but more of _someone_ in the world.” His voice, despite the amount of trepidation he felt, was hidden beneath his growing desire to have Aislynn’s continuous, and unconditional, understanding companionship. His deepening anxieties were quickly alleviated by the sensation of a human hand gripping one of his own, along with the smile pressed into his neck. His own hand tightened around the smaller, fragile human one. It was odd, really, for him to feel at a loss without the human woman’s presence, as he often felt when she was off on duty or simply unavailable to him.

Aislynn couldn’t think of something appropriate to say. She didn’t want to belittle the moment, or hurt Ultron’s steadily growing emotional sensitivity, but she knew she didn’t have the words to express the sensation that cried in her chest like a caged bird. Her heart quickened its pace. In the almost seven-month span that she had known Ultron, one of which was kind of blurry with the whole ‘are we friends yet’ thing, Aislynn’s adoration and fondness for the mech had only grown in strength. Her skin burned with the heat of her blood, pumped from a rapidly beating heart the squirmed with unidentifiable feelings, Aislynn acted in a rush of sensations and instinctual emotions.

The woman’s lips grazed Ultron’s in a surprisingly soft, chaste kiss before she knew was she was doing. In that one moment, Aislynn acted without thinking of the awkwardness sure to follow, or the consequences of kissing an emotionally-stunted AI. Her arms, however, had coiled themselves around Ultron’s neck, pulling her body up into a new position; her legs straddled the mech’s waist with their torsos still pressed firmly against one another.

It was over in a matter of seconds, but to Aislynn it felt like she’d been holding her breath for hours. Her cheeks were bright red, her skin hot, her lungs ached, and her heart felt like it was going to burst. The bird hadn’t escaped its cage, but it had definitely knocked a few bars loose.

Hazel eyes, dilated with adrenaline, locked onto the bright crimson ones that had not torn themselves from her features since the kiss. With the silence and the lonely hoot an owl; it felt like an eternity had passed in only a few heartbeats. The soft, warm sensation of metallic lips lingered on Aislynn’s and a shiver passed over her skin. She only just realized that Ultron had a rather firm grip on her waist, that she was still draped over his body like a blanket, and that he was still watching her, unreadable.

“I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” She was cut off, her words silenced by the presence of a hand moving up her back and lips pressed gently into hers. It lasted only a few seconds, but in those few seconds something new and unbelievable had just been brokered between the two of them.

Aislynn could feel both embarrassment and euphoria rising in her blood, but Ultron seemed to be bearing only one of the two. His features carried only the elation of physical contact with an emotional tie, of having held and kissed the one thing he had probably ever truly cared for. He had heard her trying to apologize and stopped her the only way he thought was truly effective. Kiss her back (yes, he knows it’s incredibly cliché). Again, while taking into consideration human standards, he believed the kiss was long overdue, yet in their situation, in learning to care for something you once hated, it was perfectly timed (not that he’d been thinking about it or anything).

His crimson eyes could see the mixture of emotions coursing over Aislynn’s face after he’d returned her kiss, surprise paramount among them, and he smiled his signature, coy smile. It had dawned on him, in that one, singular moment, that Aislynn might be the one, and only, thing in this whole dysfunctional world he cared about (and by cared about, he means really cared about). The feeling was only intensified by the thought that Aislynn might actually feel more for him in a capacity beyond her usual, definingly intrepid curiosity. Her eyes were locked onto his, trying to maintain contact yet too embarrassed to hold it.

“Did I really just…” She was stuttering, choking on her self-induced embarrassment.

“Yes.” Ultron cut her short, gripping her hands in his own and holding them between them. He didn’t understand why she was so _nervous_ about it. It wasn’t until he noticed how jittery she was, how her hazel eyes were red around the edges, a tell-tale sign of late-night exhaustion piled on top of a flush of emotions.

“Was it…” She blinked and yawned. She slipped closer to Ultron’s metallic body.

 _She’s definitely tired._ Ultron’s internal clock told him it was around three in the morning, and he knew already, without even looking closer at Aislynn, that she was in need of a good night’s sleep. Her breathing had already begun to slow, despite her still racing heart, and her eyes had become reddened. He could tell, with a slight lurch in his chest, that she was in a bit of a daze from it all; she had been a little ditzy during the majority of his visit, which he knew meant a lack of sleep. He also knew she had a tendency to become more affectionate with less sleep. She had less of her focus, less of her rational containment.

He blinked slowly and felt, what Aislynn had assumed was his heart, sink to the floor when he recalled the last symptom of her sleepless dazes.

She _forgets._

Which means, in all likeliness, she will forget that she kissed him.

She’ll forget he kissed her back.

Ultron felt her body slump against his, sleep taking her by the minute. A surprisingly overwhelming sadness filled his mind and pushed an unbearable weight on his chest.

“Don’t you have a roof shift tomorrow, Aislynn?” Ultron asked quietly, shifting the subject away from the kiss. The woman made a groan of wordless confirmation. She nuzzled closer to his body and he could tell she’d be asleep any moment now. He felt a bit bad for keeping her up so late; when Aislynn had roof duty, she was usually busy for much of the day. This meant that he could be impacting her ability to work without passing out from sleeplessness.

Without another word, the mech shifted out from under Aislynn’s mass of blankets and pulled her body up into his arms. The woman made a subdued, yet startled noise, as she felt herself lifted from her spot and her eyes flew open. She clutched at the blanket that was still draped over her shoulders and cast a slightly annoyed look at the silver being that held her.

“I was comfortable.” She groaned, giving the mech a soft frown (she could’ve slept right there on the roof and been fine, but _somebody_ had to insist that she slept inside).

“You’re not sleeping on the roof.” Ultron’s tone was flat; he had to remind her every time that she shouldn’t be out in the weather when she had a perfectly fine apartment to sleep in. “How many times am I going to have to remind you?”

The woman put on a thinking face, tapping her chin. “As many times as I try to sleep outside?”

“Your sass isn’t necessary right now.” Ultron chided lightly. He moved towards the door on the roof which led to a short flight of stairs, then eventually to Aislynn’s little apartment.

“My sass feels unappreciated.” Aislynn let her head fall back; she acted like she was passed out in the mech’s arms. Ultron only let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his crimson eyes (in all honesty, he was rather fond of Lynn’s dramatic responses, as it denoted how playful she could be despite her toughened exterior).

“Uh-huh.” Ultron opened the apartment door and found himself in the small, cozy little home the woman had made for herself. It was dimly lit by old Christmas lights strung up around the ceiling and draped over doorways. They gave off a pale-yellow light, as Aislynn had scavenged them from somebody’s attic a while back. With the scattered light, the mech could see a small red couch pressed against one wall (it was covered in pillows of various shapes, sizes, and colors), and two bookshelves on the opposite wall. They were full of books of just about every size and thickness, and the shelves themselves had begun to bend under the weight. Even with the stuffed bookshelves, Aislynn still hade pile upon pile of books scattered about the room. Ultron had to move around the makeshift furniture and piles of books in the apartment to reach the only other room in the apartment, careful not to disturb anything.

“You really ought to straighten up, Aislynn.” Ultron commented as he stepped over a pile of comic books, several of which depicted the annoyingly familiar faces of the so-called superheroes, the _Avengers._

“Yeah. I’ll do that.” Aislynn mumbled through her sleep. Her breathing had slowed and she refused to open her eyes at this point. She was ready to go into sleep mode and not wake up for a few good hours, maybe days if she could get away with it.

“You said that last time, Lynn.” Ultron said flatly. There was no reasoning with the woman, especially when she was delirious from a lack of sleep (which was kind of his fault, but he wasn’t about to admit to that).

Aislynn hummed in his arms as the mech entered her room. Again, it was lit by Christmas lights, but it also had a small candelabra and various trays where she burned scentless tea candles for extra light in the darker hours of the day. As for furniture, there was a low nightstand with two drawers stuffed with various articles of clothing and two plastic tubs along one wall full of clothing as well. The closet, from what Ultron had seen when Aislynn had left it cracked, housed jackets and extra blankets, towels, and her _extensive_ collection of firearms. Ultron had been very surprised to see so many kinds of weapons laying at the back of her closet (he was sure he’d seen a Hellfire missile, but he was sure it had been a trick of the light).

As for furniture, Aislynn didn’t have a true bed, but a plain mattress covered in a ridiculous number of pillows, blankets, and comforters. There were a few books lying by the edge of the mattress, as well as a radio. Ultron crossed the room and deposited the tired woman onto the mass of fabric. She immediately pulled the various pieces of fabric over herself, wrapping herself in an array of colors and patterns. With a contented sigh, she peeked open a drowsy hazel eye and smiled at the metallic being who had turned to leave the room and go back to whatever it was he did at such an ungodly hour.

“Good night, Ultron.” Aislynn called softly, her voice muffled by the copious blankets draped over her tired frame. The mech turned his head ever so slightly, but Aislynn could still see the smile he was trying to hide. 

“Good night, Lynn.” The mech spoke just as quietly, as if he spoke any louder and he’d break some odd silence that hung over them. Perhaps it was just because Aislynn ought to be sleeping that his voice had been so low.

The mech watched the woman pull a heavy pillow under her head, which was hidden by her wild hair, and turn to lay on her side. Aislynn buried herself under the heap of blankets, one of which was patterned to look like the American flag. Ultron couldn’t help but scoff at the sight of the blanket (he wondered if she was truly patriotic or if she had just scrounged up another scrap of fabric for her growing hoard).

When Ultron’s eyes fell back to the woman, he could tell even without scanning her (something she was entirely annoyed by), that she had already passed into a deep, nearly coma-like sleep. The mech huffed out a burst of hot air and turned back to exit the woman’s room. He passed through her home, but first he checked that the front door (one that he had never had to use, as he just flew up to the roof or balcony), and made sure that the woman’s locks were done in some spontaneous order. At first, he’d been slightly confused by the idea of only locking three or four of them at time until she’d explained.

 _You’ll always be locking some of them if you pick them. You won’t be able to tell if they’re locked or not._ She had explained that like she was some kind of a genius, but Ultron had admitted it was a clever move to appease her (until he reminded her that, if someone really wanted to get in, they could just bust down the door). Ultron had, without Aislynn’s knowing, posted a sentry to keep an eye on her home round-the-clock, just to be safe. Unless he was there, Ultron made sure that Aislynn’s home remained unpilfered by others when she was away. As he finally exited her home, making sure every entry point was secured, he took off and melted into the night sky. In a matter of seconds, he was nothing more than a blur of silver and red streaking like a comet over darkened skies.


	10. Always, Always

Aislynn crept out from the ruined library, several books of various size and genre stuffed in the woman’s backpack. The door moved out of her way easily, creaking lightly on hinges thick with rust and rot. Hissing inwardly at the grating noise, the woman slid quickly through the narrow opening to avoid moving the door any more than she needed to. With a relieved sigh, the curly-headed woman breathed in the warm summer air that greeted her.

“I’m glad summer has finally peaked,” she stated with a tiny grin. “A little fresh air and a warm sun is all I need.”

“That and a few hundred books.” Ultron scoffed with a playful tone. From his place outside the library, he watched his dearest (and only, but that was purely by choice) friend emerge from the dusty old building, armful of books in tow. “Do you really _need_ this many?”

“Of course,” The woman responded cheerily, casting her soft hazel eyes in his direction with a warm smile. Ultron shifted his gaze momentarily; the smile made a heat rise in his chest. The event that took place only two nights ago flashed through his mind again; he’d never forget the soft sensation of her lips on his, the weight of her body, the warmth of her skin. A dusty cough from the woman stirred him from his rapture.  

“Why don’t I just give you a tablet with digital copies?” Ultron offered with a plain look at her bulging backpack and the dust falling off paper and into the air. “It would be more convenient.”

“It’s not the same,” Aislynn commented absentmindedly as she struggled to adjust the backpack so that a certain hardcover book was no longer stabbing her in the kidney. “I like the feeling of the paper and the smell of the ink… I like to _hold_ the book.”

Ultron cast her an odd glance, once again mesmerized by the human’s (human – he ought to stop referring to her as that) strange sentimentality towards inanimate, obsolete objects. It was a weird thought for him (who held a myriad of digitalized information within his own databanks) that someone would prefer a heavy, inconvenient physical copy of something so trivial. He scoffed lightly to himself and looked back at the woman. Aislynn blinked as she fixed her bag, teeth flashing in a light-hearted, human smile. He knew the woman could sense his disbelief as he approached her.

“It’s like… It’s like holding a world in your hands,” She continued as he came to stand by her side. “You have a _whole world_ , with people and places unlike anything you’ve seen before, in one little, fragile object.” She spoke with awe, holding a copy of a rather small novel in her hand (she’d run out of room in her backpack). Her eyes were glued to it, gleaming with admiration and amazement. She looked up and passed the book to her metallic companion. The skin of her hand brushed his and that same heat his chest. He sequestered it, trying to focus on Aislynn’s words.

“It can be a portal, a key, or…” Aislynn paused and locked eyes with Ultron. “an escape.”

The mech passed a quizzical, if not a little open-minded, glance at the book in his hands. The title read _Bridge to Terabithia_ by Katherine Paterson. He could understand the woman’s attachment to the idea of a physical concept of worlds unknown, found only in the ink on worn paper, in the written word. He could feel her eyes on him, watching for a reaction. He hoped she say only his confusion for books and not the uncomfortable longing for her rising in his body.

 _She doesn’t need to stare_ , Ultron thought, _she’s seen enough of me to know what I’m thinking before I’ve even thought it._

In all of six months, their friendship (and it was certainly a weird six months, he could assure you of that) had only grown stronger. He was surprised, really, that she still clung so tightly to him, as if he would suddenly disappear. She seemed optimistic about him, about insisting she would try and show him a world beyond what he had seen and had been exposed to. Ultron was now enraptured by her affections and dedication to him, and he wished he could tell her about what she had done a few nights ago. How she had shown him a better world. It was a world that had her in it, a world that had a woman who he thought of as his closest friend, and someone who we would want to be closer to.

_She was his better world._

His eyes ran over the small book in his hands. These books were her little worlds, her escape. She is his world (honestly, he thinks himself the most cliché person in the world now). Ultron passed the little book back to Aislynn and watched as she ran her fingers subconsciously over its yellowed pages as they continued their walk, longing to touch her. Their footsteps were mostly quiet, only breaking the eerie silence for the odd crunch of stone or rubble underfoot. Ultron walked closely behind and to the left of Aislynn; he kept an eye on her and the surroundings before her, making sure nothing nasty lay in the distance. Hearing the woman hum softly to herself, as she always did when she felt things were too quiet, Ultron’s thoughts were freed to venture back to their odd (yet extremely satisfying) relationship.

For two whole months now, he and Aislynn (during this time she had insisted he call her Lynn, but he saved this for special situations and such, like a pet-name) had been meeting in the early mornings, on days when Aislynn had no duties to perform, and wandered through the streets of New York City in search of whatever struck the woman’s fancy Sometimes it was much needed supplies she’d be in pursuit of, but somehow a certain mech always seemed to have said supplies readily available. This meant that Aislynn could go off and look for trinkets and treasures, things to pass the time, and anything she really wanted as she wanted to. Of course, that mech accompany her on these outings (it was more for her own safety, really)

During these little escapades, it became fairly easy to slip into a game of questions, into a little spit-fire rotation of _who’s_ and _what’s_ and _where’s_. Those long hours of ambling allowed Ultron to take his chance and learn more and more about Aislynn, and for her to learn about him (it was only fair that she know equally as much about him as he knew about her). He’d told her right away there wasn’t much to himself she didn’t know already, so they stuck to playing catch-up on Aislynn’s history (and how he loved to hear her talk).

She was born in Glengarriff, Ireland, to her loving (now sadly deceased) parents Brigid and Finn McNamara. Her mother had died when Aislynn was only seven years old, due to an infection from a dog bite, but her father had passed away only recently; he had died of a stroke two years before Ultron had even existed. The mech offered his condolences, as he felt he ought to, but Aislynn had waved him off with a sad smile. _They’re in a better place now_ , she’d stated wistfully. It sounded like she had been trying to comfort herself.  

Aislynn had told him that her family had later immigrated to America after her mother’s death. She had been only fourteen years old then; her father had just wanted Aislynn to see the world (that’s what he had told her, but records showed he came in search of employment). The young, relocated Aislynn grew up in the southeastern corner of the country, in the state of North Carolina, and graduated from her high school with an impressive educational foothold. At the age of nineteen, Aislynn moved to New York to attend college. _That’s why she’s here in the first place,_ Ultron thought with a huff.

This was all textbook information, Ultron noticed rather quickly, and wondered why she didn’t proffer more emotional recollections to his questions. With the realization that this was all paperwork stuff that Ultron could have found out through Aislynn’s immigration papers, her medical history, and school records, he was thrown off by her secrecy. Of course, Ultron had also learned that Aislynn had been rather irked by the idea of him digging around in her past (even though he hadn’t really done so, except for the first time he’d encountered her) when he had brought it up. He wondered if she had secrets she didn’t want him to know, or some foul blemish on her record that she’d prefer was forgotten. Whatever the case, Ultron had promised to abide by her desire for privacy and ignored any chance he got to flip through her files. Aislynn reminded him that she was right there, easily accessible to him, and insisted that he just _ask_ if he ever wanted to know something, no matter what it was.

So, he did.

He asked her about _everything_ he could. In turn, she asked just as many questions, even if they had one word answers or were unlike what she had just been asked. Ultron, through this regular back and forth questioning, learned that Aislynn liked strawberries the most and oranges the least, over-sized sweaters and gym shorts were her favorite things to wear, and that she was neither a cat nor dog person, but preferred snakes.

He also learned that she had been bullied throughout her American schooling because she was an immigrant, because of her accent, because she was _different._ She told him, quite reluctantly, that she had become coldhearted and reclusive due to the bullying. She shut everyone out and became _that_ _kid_ , that one that never, _ever_ talks; when she finally did open her mouth to speak, it was to spit acid in the form of smart words.

The mech had remained silent throughout her distant recollection, let her tell it as she felt it flow from her, uninterrupted by further, more specific questions (he really wanted to ask who bullied her, just so he could personally hunt that person down, but he figured it would be poorly received by the woman). Aislynn told him she had isolated herself, focused solely on her studies to become more successful than the average student, and graduated from the public-school system with a grudge hanging on her back and a blood-deep disgust for anyone who discriminated against others simply because they were _different_.

Now, as he walked side by side with her, he could see where that coldhearted attitude had taken root in her reputation. It was a face-value trait; it was there the first time he’d met her. She’d responded with such a fierce malice that, had you told him where he’d be with her in six months, he would have laughed. _Loudly_.

But _now_?

Aislynn, despite what she’d told him, was not cruel to him, she did not push him away. He’d asked her why. It had been a question that had nagged him _endlessly_. Her answer had made his mind shut down for a few seconds and his chest tighten with both raw and newfound emotions.

 _“Well, I would think… I would think it’s because everyone hates you, fears you, and ignores your feelings and thoughts, like you aren’t a person. You were alone…”_ She had paused, looked him in the eyes; the fire within them had been burning brightly, fiercely. She had taken his hand in hers.

 _“No one_ deserves _to be alone, Ultron.”_

It made the mech endlessly proud to know that Aislynn liked him, _trusted_ him, more than she had anyone in the longest time, despite his genocidal tendencies (she made sure he knew that part was a joke). Ultron had asked once more, as if to seek some sort of self-esteem boost from her gentle, affectionate words, why she stayed with him even though she had plenty of human friends to goof off with, to walk with her like he did. She had grinned and laughed at him, tossing him smiles in response.

 _“It’s simple: they’re not_ you _. Regardless of what you may think, Ultron, I like you. Despite all your self-perceived flaws, you’re still an amazing friend... for a homicidal overlord, at least.”_ Aislynn had giggled and smiled and leaned against him when she’d said that, redoubling her efforts to make him understand. He had soaked up every positive feeling he could have, wanting to drown in her affections.

_And there was the kiss…_

Ultron was lured out of his quiet reverie, his deeper longing, by the warm sensation of Aislynn’s smaller hand grasping his wrist tightly. His crimson eyes flashed to her face, seeing a sudden look of worry cross her rounded features. All lingering feelings of desire left him, he was worried as to why she was worried.

“Did you hear that?” She asked quickly, her voice lowered to a whisper. Ultron paused, cursing himself silently for not paying more attention to their surroundings. He wasn’t a very good escort if he couldn’t keep her safe, now was he?

“What did it sound like, Lynn? Gunfire?” A sharp pang of fear shot through Ultron’s nervous system. A rogue sniper was probably his worst nightmare when he was out with Aislynn like this, out in the open. It was not for his own sake, no, but for his dear companion’s. If any other human saw her with him, they might think she was in trouble for a few brief seconds, but that idea would be shattered when they saw her speak to, touch, or even look at him with a casual, friendly air. He was sure she’d be labeled a traitor at least… and at most?

She’d be shot, _killed_ on sight, right then and there. Ultron subconsciously calculated the chances of him successfully taking a bullet for her, but not knowing the shooter’s location or their weapon made Lynn’s percentage of survival drop far lower than the mech wanted. Ultron’s crimson glare traveled to his wrist where Aislynn’s hand was still tightly wrapped around it. He felt his chest tighten with anger at thought of losing the one living creature, the one intelligent and kind human being, that was overtly, (he hoped deeply) fond of him.

He couldn’t have that. _Ever._ Ultron made a silent vow to keep Aislynn by his side no matter what. After losing the companionship of Wanda and Pietro, he didn’t dare risk the woman next to him.

“It wasn’t gunfire,” She blinked and relaxed her hand, but she didn’t let go of Ultron. “It sounded like falling rocks or something… kind of echo-y. It sounded close.”

 _A building collapse maybe?_ Ultron examined the nearby buildings, all of which looked structurally sound, and wondered if she’d heard a distant echo from somewhere else in the city, thinking it closer than it really was. He sent out a few sentries with the orders to look for fresh damage to local infrastructure. He received several pings only seconds later, each returning with negative results. They’d found no new marks, no dust or rubble, or any signs of collapse and destruction.

“The sentries can’t find anything. Maybe you’re just hearing things.” Ultron commented; he tapped twice, lightly, on Aislynn’s temple as he pressed closer to her, slipping from her grip but pushing his chest to her back. The woman snorted and pushed his hand away, but chose to lean into his body, her tongue protruding from her mouth in a childish manner to tease. One of his hands went to her shoulder and he could feel her body move as she laughed.

“Or your sentries are blind.” She turned, countering with her hands over Ultron eyes. He staggered only slightly and huffed out a gust of hot air, reaching to grab the woman. His fingertips trailed over her waist, but she dodged his hands and slipped away from him. She ticked her finger at him, making the _tsk_ noise repeatedly as she began to clamber up a pile of concrete rubble. The mixed-stone shifted slightly and a few small pieces tumbled down to the road below.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to grab people?” Aislynn smirked playfully and took a few tentative steps up the pile, climbing higher. She tossed Ultron a sly look over her shoulder.

“Really?” He feigned ignorance. Ultron walked past the pile of rubble, ignoring the woman’s sarcastic pout. She put her hands on her hips and stuck out her tongue again, leaning forward for emphasis.

“You’re acting like a child, Lynn,” Ultron called over his shoulder as he watched the windows of nearby buildings for that tell-tale flicker of movement from a rogue sniper. He wasn’t sure that Lynn really knew what she had heard, since his sentries hadn’t found any signs of recent destruction. “And get down from there before you hurt yourself.” He added curtly. Panic and affection were flowing through him now.

Aislynn rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’re so bossy sometimes.” She made her way down slowly, watching her footing. She was momentarily glad she’d chosen to wear sneakers instead of her rubber flip-flops today.

“I am an _evil overlord_ , remember?” Ultron called with dull sarcasm. He felt a rising anxiety in his chest, pulsing through his body. He wanted to get Aislynn out of the open as soon as he could. Behind him, he could hear the stone shift as the woman found her way back to solid earth; there was the loud clacking or concrete pieces as they tumbled down and a quick, muted gasp. Ultron sighed with slight annoyance; the woman had fallen flat on her ass, just as he expected she would. Turning sharply with a witty snap on his lips, the mech started on her.

“What did I tell you... Lynn?” Ultron froze. The woman wasn’t behind him, planted on the ground with a pained frown on her face. She wasn’t standing atop the rubble with a rebellious smirk on her face. She wasn’t anything. Aislynn was nowhere to be found.

“Aislynn?” Ultron called loudly. He wondered, with a sour note creeping into the hum of his systems, if this was some poor joke on the woman’s part. He called her name a few more times; she did not respond to any of them. The mech could tell that a rabid panic was seeping into his voice and if Aislynn could hear him, she would’ve responded by now. He knew she could be annoyingly playful sometimes, but she also knew when a joke was no longer funny.

The fear coursing through his systems rose and reached a boiling point, rippling over into anger and concern. Ultron approached the pile of rubble with a grimace on his silver features. Looking over the pile with eyes burning with suspicion and anger, Ultron leaned over the mass of once-tall buildings reduced to rubble. He noticed a shift on the surface, a large piece of concrete and rebar, where Aislynn had been standing earlier. The stone had boot prints marring the pale gray dust that covered the concrete mass. With a sudden lurch of stone as he stepped onto the large boulder of broken concrete, a massive hole yawned open a few feet ahead of him. While he wasn’t afraid of the dark, he suddenly understood why any small child, why even an adult human, might be. The blackness was impenetrable; it was a heavy darkness that sucked up all the light from the sun high above. It seemed like a void of nothing but black, but it seemed so _solid_ at the same time.

Ultron called out Aislynn’s name in a low tone, although he was quite sure she had fallen into the hole and was most likely unconscious. He kneeled by the edge and could hear the distant clatter of stone as it hit the bottom of the hole, his body causing pebbles and stone to tumble over. Every nerve in his body was telling him to move _now_ , to go and get Aislynn _immediately_. Ultron grudgingly held back from doing so, his logic-center taking control. He was aware that Aislynn could be (and most likely was) seriously injured at the bottom of the yawning pit, but he also knew that this could be a trap. He’d seen similar set-ups throughout the city before; scavengers would use the run-down subway systems as hideouts and used holes like these to catch victims unawares. He knew the fall usually stunned the victims, but he was unaware if the scavengers would kill a fellow human… given his prior experience with humans, though, he was sure they weren’t too kind to them.

With a groan of annoyance, Ultron hesitated to just charge straight in, worried that in the possible scavengers’ eagerness to shoot and kill him, a stray shot might hit an already wounded Aislynn. Ultron could hear his internal systems creak and growl in anger.

Calling Aislynn’s name again (with more urgency this time, as his nerves were beginning to wear thin) he willed her to be conscious, to be up and about with only a bruise to show for the whole thing. When Ultron’s only answer was the dull echo of his own worried voice, he proceeded to perform a thermal scan of the area. The dark was cold, obviously, and consumed the warmth of the sun. The stone nearby was slightly warmer, but he focused his sensors down into the pit, unsure of just how far below the surface it went. It could be too far for the scanner, but then again, he’d never know just what kind of set-up the potential scavengers had down there. The scanner, however, picked up a mass of heat close to the human body temperature right below him. With a quick sigh of relief, a massive weight was lifted from his shoulders. If he could have held his breath, he would’ve realized he could breathe now.

Now that he knew where in the blackness Aislynn was, Ultron stood and readied to descend. Just as he moved to his feet, his scanner picked up three more heat signatures, pinging in his audio array. The signatures were human-sized (just about the worst-sized in this situation) and were all moving steadily towards the unconscious woman below. Ultron’s mind lurched to just about every nasty thing those humans might do to his companion lying unconscious down below (none of which he’d let happen, by the way); his rage almost overflowed in an instant. With a quick hiss of hate and blatant disgust, the mech plunged down into the darkness. He could feel how the air changed from sun-lit to dank and how, when he hit the ground with a near-silent _click_ , the stone was cold and damp.

Immediately he located Aislynn, who was lying on her back. Her backpack had somehow managed to land a few feet from her and its contents remained inside (how that thing hadn’t exploded on impact was beyond him). His attention snapped back to the woman to at his left; he kneeled by her side and proceeded to scan her to check the woman’s vitals. Her breathing and heart rate were normal, as was her brain activity. Ultron let out another relieved sigh and placed a hand on Aislynn’s cheek, cupping it gently. Her skin was colder than usual, but still warm (and incredibly soft, he thought). There was no blood anywhere, thankfully, and no serious wounds on her body or her head besides a few scrapes on her exposed shoulders and one on her leg. The landing had been the cause of her unconsciousness (quite the deduction there, Sherlock), but beyond that and what was revealed by Ultron’s preliminary scans, there was no other damage to the woman. No broken bones, no internal bleeding, but Aislynn would probably have a few bruises to answer to later, though.

The scanner pinged again, a little louder this time, but still internalized within Ultron’s head. He cast the crimson light of his eyes into the darkness to his left, where the three signatures he’d detected earlier were coming closer at a steady speed. He couldn’t see them, only the orange-yellow outlines picked up by the scanner. From their speed, Ultron could tell that they obviously knew the tunnel’s layout and just what was waiting for them at the end. He could also see that they carried weapons, due to the metal’s cooler temperatures. He didn’t care to think of why they might need weapons, as he knew well enough none of his drones were stupid enough to fall in a hole and render themselves easy prey to vengeful or violent humans. The weapons were meant for foolish and clumsy people who might have supplies or information, or some other… _use_. Ultron hissed internally as his eyes passed over Aislynn’s lightly-clothed body (she said it was ‘dressing for the weather’ but Ultron had called it ‘asking for an injury’).

The mech stood with a grumble in his chest and felt the two halves of his personality tearing at him, each attempting to lead him down two very different paths. One ushered him to simply rush Aislynn to safety, to get her out of the tunnel and to get her some much-needed medical attention (it would be his own, obviously); this approach was appealing in that he could leave _now_ , help her _now_. The other road ended the same way, with Aislynn’s rescue and recovery, but it included a few more human casualties, specifically three subterranean scavengers. If Ultron killed them, he knew the woman, once coherent and curious, would be less then pleased, disappointed, and possibly even angry. Ultron didn’t _have_ to tell her that’d he killed them, really, but he also knew she was a clever mind. It wouldn’t be a secret for long. Sighing inwardly, he made the choice he knew Aislynn would’ve wanted him to make.

A part of him hissed, _you can always come back later and finish it._

He grabbed Aislynn’s book-filled pack and draped it over his back (God knows she’d kill him for leaving it to scavengers who’d probably burn the books for fuel). Kneeling carefully, Ultron put one arm under Aislynn’s knees and another under her shoulders. He lifted her delicately, making sure not to put too much pressure on the abrasions on her shoulders and the locations of possible bruises, and pulled her body close to his own (he suddenly felt very sure of Lynn’s safety, now that she was in his arms). Rising to his full height with the usual hiss of metallic joints, Ultron adjusted the woman’s head so that there’d be no strain on her neck. Her face looked awfully peaceful as it lay against his chest and he couldn’t stop the curl of his lips into a small smile.

 _It’s a pity she only looks like this because she fell down a hole._ He thought with a grunt of exasperation.

Ultron stiffened. In the few seconds that he’d lost himself to his thoughts, he hadn’t heard those nasty tunnel rats approach. With a hateful glance to his left, he could just make out the foggy outlines of the three men and the weapons cradled in their arms. He could hear their footsteps echo through the darkness as they approached Aislynn and himself. Ultron felt his grip on Aislynn tighten, a protective surge of emotion welling up in the forefront of his processor. Perhaps that blinded him to the violent rage bubbling up in his torso, threatening to overturn his attempted calm demeanor of rationality.

With a quick boost from his propulsion system, Ultron cleared the rim without looking back, knowing that if he’d stayed a moment longer those men would be charcoal lumps as black as the hole they lived in.

~~~

Her head hurt _._ _A lot._ Aislynn groaned softly as the pain reached around from the back of her head. It felt like a thunderstorm rattled inside her skull with each boom of thunder. Another groan of discomfort. She could vaguely feel the rest of her body. Everything was so… _hazy._

The back of her eyes felt warm, swollen, and sore. A bolt of lightning flashed behind blackness, stinging her eyes and rumbling in her head. She blinked a few times, slowly, as her eyes felt too big for her skull. Opening them slowly, she saw only an inky darkness, peppered with those odd little lights that whizz by so quickly you’re not quite sure you even saw them. She squeezed her eyes shut and whined. Not a second later she felt something cool press against her shoulder, gently, but in Aislynn’s muddled mind it might as well have been a block of ice. She jolted, her eyes flown open and her body sat straight-up. Her limbs instinctively curled forward as the sudden shock of stimulus hit her. She made a hollow gasping noise as she covered her head, another crack of thunder shaking her.

“Aislynn,” The woman heard her name muttered from of in the distance. She whimpered from the pain and her lungs ached. “Lynn, you’re alright.”

Aislynn heard a beeping sound, felt something rush through her blood like a numbing ice near seconds later, and then found air returning to her lungs.

“Lie back, Aislynn. Take it easy.” The voice sounded closer, the storm was receding. She blinked her eyes a few times and withdrew her hands from her head.

When the light faded and her eyes adjusted, Aislynn found herself sitting a white room (or near white, at least) surrounded by all kinds of odd machines, cabinets, and shelves. It looked like a room in a hospital, but those had been scavenged and reduced to rubble ages ago. She curled forward, feeling a blanket fall from her shoulders, and buried her face in her hands.

“Aislynn? Lynn? What’s the matter?” The voice, for all its strength, sounded slightly frantic. It was even closer now, she noticed.

“Light,” She choked out. Her mouth felt parched, but she wasn’t thirsty. Her eyes burned again and she rubbed them with her palms. She heard a soft _humph_ come from her right.

“Lynn? Can you look at me?” She heard the voice, now a very distinguishable sound, and she recognized it instantly. The haze in her mind was still there, but this was something she knew she heard. Sitting up slowly, the woman peeked open her hazel eyes with hesitancy. She turned in the direction of the voice as her vision cleared. The room was noticeably darker.

“Ultron,” She murmured softly. The mech was sitting by her beside (she just realized she was lying in a rather soft bed with a large blanket) with a worried look on his face. She leaned towards him and he moved so that she wouldn’t fall off the bed. “You’re okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckled, almost inaudibly, as he felt her forehead connect with his shoulder. “You’re the one that fell down a hole and bumped her head.”

“Did I really?” She gave him a sideways glance at his nod that, yes, she did indeed fall down a hole. Aislynn laughed quietly and mouthed a self-deprecating _wow_. Ultron felt a fond rumble rise in his chest and he smiled.

“You knocked yourself out cold and got a few bruises, but you’re fine beyond that.” He explained; his hand hovered over her shoulders, gently touching the areas where she had bruised. The woman groaned, not at his touch, but that she now had bruises to contend with.

“That would explain this massive head-ache,” Aislynn muttered with a roll of her eyes, putting a hand on the back of her head. She had a decent bump rising under her hair.

“You’ve got some pain-killers in your system; they should help.” Ultron said, giving a quick glance over to a machine that beeped quietly in a corner. Aislynn pulled herself in a crisscross sitting position and placed her chin on her hands. She gave the mech a fond, extra-warm smile. Ultron felt like he was melting. He wondered if she could tell.

“What?” He asked, giving her a slightly quizzical (also embarrassed, but he wouldn’t admit it) look. Ultron leaned towards the woman and looked her right in her eyes. They had a playful gleam in them; the little sparks of flame that had made them so unique now burned brightly.

“You really are my knight in shining armor,” She paused with a smirk, “aren’t you, Ultron?”

If Ultron could blush, he might just have in that instant. He could feel heat rising to his face, but he couldn’t explain why. Perhaps it was psychosomatic reaction? The woman was still grinning at him and he felt a laugh rise in his throat.

“Thank you,” Aislynn spoke softly, her smile dropping a bit in favor of a sincerer tone, but her eyes were still warm with familiarity.

“You don’t have to thank me, Lynn,” Ultron spoke just as quietly, his nerves starting to tremble. He gave the woman a soft nudge on her shoulder before letting it rest on her hand. He clasped it between his own and sighed. “Just don’t fall into anymore holes, okay?”

Aislynn laughed so hard she almost snorted, placing her free hand over her mouth as she collapsed into Ultron’s shape. He laughed with her, glad that she felt safe around him, thankful that she trusted him enough to let her guard down.

“No more holes. I promise.” She giggled, her laugh dying down as she caught her breath. Sitting back up, she brushed her wild hair back and looked at Ultron with a pleased shine in her eyes. Ultron was still holding her hand, so she placed her free hand on the mech’s shoulder. _He’s always so warm_ , she thought with a fond smile.

“What?” Ultron asked again, aware that Lynn had a bad (well, not _bad_ , per say) habit of touching instead of talking when she wanted someone’s attention. Just as Ultron’s focus shifted back to the woman, she slid her hand closer to his neck and leaned forward quickly; the mech had no chance to react.

Aislynn kissed him.

Ultron’s body was burning now, hot with the touch of her skin and alive with his deep affection for her. He could feel her lips pushed lightly into his, plush and soft and warm and everything he wanted in that moment. His hands went to her body: one on her waist and the other on her shoulder. Aislynn pulled her lips from his, her skin flush and her heart racing. That one second of eye contact felt like an eternity to both parties, the lingering desire to continue but the questions of whether that was enough heavy in their minds. Aislynn decided for Ultron, and he smiled internally to think that she might like him as much as he did her.

She moved forward on the bed to be closer to Ultron, rising on her knees to be his level when he stood in response to her movement. Aislynn brought both of her hands to Ultron’s neck, her thumbs running along his jawline as she pushed her lips back into his. His body responded naturally, welcoming her kiss and melting his affection her own. His hands roamed her body now, pulling her smaller frame closer to his. They slid from her waist down to her thighs, one giving her ass a quick squeeze and the other sliding up along her ribcage. She moaned at the touch and Ultron felt encouraged, their lips still not breaking away, except for Lynn’s quick breath of air.

He pulled her body ever closer, till their torsos were flush together, his mechanical lips melding in with hers. It felt so good, so natural, and he hoped it was the same for his dear Lynn. He leaned into her, feeling her body adjust to his, felt her hands slip over his shoulders and grip at the loose edges of metal. She moaned into his mouth again, Ultron realizing he was doing the same. His insurmountable pleasure was a not quiet thing. Aislynn moved to pull him down so she could wrap her legs around his waist, but she fumbled and slipped back. The kiss broken, Lynn laughed and pulled the now confused Ultron with her. His body was still hot with desire, but he could only smile at the happiness radiating from the woman below him.

Ultron leaned down further, one forearm supporting his weight, the other brushing a stray hair from Aislynn’s face. He let one last, soft kiss fall across Lynn’s lips, humming. She reached up and held his face in her hands. They were silent for a moment, hearts still racing.

“How’s that for a human emotion?” Aislynn teased, one hand moving to trace the outline of Ultron’s lips. She smiled so brightly as him she surprised herself (not that she had just kissed the evil overlord or anything).

“I think it might be my favorite.” Ultron hummed, his body moving ever closer to hers, and he planted another soft kiss on Aislynn’s neck. She wrapped her arms around Ultron’s neck and sighed deeply. She looked him in the eyes and kissed his forehead. She gave the bed a soft pat next to where she lay.

“Stay with me, please?” She had disconnected herself from him and laid on the bed correctly, but the mech shook his head with a breathy chuckle.

“This bed wouldn’t support the both of us,” He walked around the bed where Aislynn’s back was now to him. He could tell she looked sorely disappointed. “But I know one that will.”

Ultron picked up the startled woman in his arms and her body instinctively curled up against him. He carried her out of the room, careful not to aggravate any bruises or sore spots on her body. She looked at him fondly and laughed.

“You’re a sly one, you know that?” Aislynn teased with a touch of her hand over his chest. Ultron hummed and smirked at her.

“I’m not the one that asked me to get into bed with you.” He chirped. Aislynn balked, her cheeks flushed beet red. She made a humph noise in her chest but didn’t stop smiling. He knew what that meant.

“I’m not the one carrying me to a better bed.” Aislynn quipped as they entered a small room, mostly untouched, and seeing the large, plush looking bed in the middle. Ultron shook his head and laid her down on it, but she didn’t release her grip on his shoulders. This resulted in Aislynn lying across the bed, Ultron trapped in the position of hovering over her. His chest tightened, in his creation, his freedom, he’d seen every corner of the internet. This moment, this arrangement, was a recurring theme on several websites… Aislynn helped him, shifted him onto his side to lay with her. He did not argue with how she arranged him; on his side, his arms wrapped around her and legs tangled together, her face buried in his neck.

“Will stay with me tonight, Ultron?” Lynn asked, quietly and sincerely, her hands once again tracing the patterns of metal on his body.

“Of course,” He replied to her, his tone low with contemplation for his next words. “I’d stay with you forever if you wanted.” Had he gone too far? Was that too much? Were they at that point where such a question was acceptable? He felt Aislynn place a soft kiss over where his heart would be. Aislynn moved her head to be facing Ultron and she let her lips rest on his; it wasn’t a kiss, but a touch of intimacy as she spoke that Ultron longed would never end.

“I want you always, Ultron.”


End file.
